Picking Up the Pieces
by Taelr
Summary: The War is over. Hermione has returned to Hogwarts to help with its restoration. But she ends up staying at the school under much different circumstances, which bring her to care for a man whom she has defended, despised, and revered through her years as a student. It's not long before she realizes her true feelings for him. But can he love her and let go of the one he loved first?
1. Phoenix Tears

Hermione slipped away from the crowd as soon as Ron had rejoined them and walked through the entrance hall, now torn apart by war. It was strange, to stop just outside the great doors and look out over the courtyard before her, where so many tragedies had only just occurred. She started to walk, not really paying attention and lost deep in her thoughts. She didn't stop until the swishing of something moving quickly through the air near her head made her duck. She was only just in time to avoid the branch that lashed out at her. Jumping back out of the reach of the flailing limbs of the tree, she stared. Her wandering feet had brought her to the whomping willow. She did not want to be there, near that tree that held so many memories for her. Images flashed before her eyes; a huge black dog dragging Ron through the tunnel beneath the tree; Wormtail escaping as a rat running through the grass; Remus Lupin being exposed to the moonlight and becoming a werewolf; Snape unconscious . . .

With a jolt she remembered that Snape was in the shrieking shack, only a secret tunnel-length away from where she was standing. She forgot the pain in her chest that came whenever she thought of Lupin and Tonks and Fred and all the others who had given their lives only that day. A strange, inexplicably strong urge to go to the shrieking shack seized her. She reasoned with herself, questioning her own sudden, burning desire to visit the place. That place was where she had, together with Harry, disarmed Snape with so strong a spell that he had flown back and hit the wall, which knocked him unconscious. That place was where she had found out, along with Harry and Ron, that Sirius Black was an innocent man, and that he was Harry's Godfather. That was the place where Ron's rat, Scabbers, who had been in the family for years and was a beloved pet, had suddenly transformed into a small, watery-eyed man with a pointed nose who turned out to be the guilty wizard responsible for the death of Harry's parents. That was the place where, many years before she or Harry or Ron had been born, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black had stayed together as Prongs, Moony, Wormtail, and Padfoot during the full moon. The shrieking shack was a place full of memories, and no matter how strange or even happy they were, considering all that had just taken place, Hermione thought of those memories as sad things. The shrieking shack. That was the place where Snape had died.

"_Accio stick_," she said, pointing her wand at the ground around her and watching as a stick flew through the air and into her outstretched hand. Everything was bathed in a glorious golden light, as the sun had just risen. Yes, a wonderful thing had happened just as the sun came over the horizon; Harry Potter had dueled and killed Tom Riddle, or Voldemort. But when she thought of all the still, pale faces of those who had died fighting, Hermione was unable to call the day beautiful, no matter how much splendor the sun was throwing over everything.

She found the special knob on the tree and prodded it with the stick, paralyzing the willow. Then she got to her knees and crawled through the hole between the roots and made her way through the tunnel for the second time that morning. Earlier she had followed Harry and Ron and they had watched as Voldemort killed Snape under the impression that if he did, the elder wand would belong to him. But the wand had not been Snape's, so it had not become Voldemort's. They had watched as Nagini, the huge serpent pet of the dark lord's, had attacked the man who had once been their potions master, the man they had hated.

"_Lumos," _Hermione said, raising her wand to light the tunnel before her as she moved away from the opening and away from the sun. It had bothered her to see Snape die, but not because she wanted him to live; she hated him, but she did not like death, and for such stupid reasons as for a wand. The blood of Severus Snape was the last spilled over the elder wand, adding to a list of much blood taken in the past. And then, Snape had given Harry his memories, and Harry had seen them in the pensieve in what had once been Dumbledore's office. He had shared with Ron and Hermione, only moments before, the true life of Severus Snape. And the man they thought they had known and hated was suddenly a hero. Hermione didn't want to see his body, lying in the shrieking shack, and yet she didn't seem to be able to will herself to turn around or go back and flee from the place.

The tunnel sloped upward and opened into the room. And there, from the mouth of the tunnel, the pale face and dark robes of the man she had called a traitor and who had lived a double-life for Dumbledore, was visible. She stopped, not knowing why she had come here, not knowing why she did not simply turn and leave, not knowing what she had been thinking leaving the castle to come and see this. She was in control of her own legs again, and yet she seemed unable to move anywhere but forward. She crawled out of the tunnel and got slowly to her feet, averting her eyes and staring at the floor on the opposite side of the room as the body.

At last she couldn't bear not to look anymore and she turned and let her gaze fall on the man on the floor. His eyes were open and held the vacant stare that had come as his life left. His mouth was closed firmly and resolutely, and the blood had ceased to trickle from the gaping wounds in his neck. Even if the snake hadn't been poisonous, its fangs had ruined Snape's throat and it was the wounds that had killed him, not the poison. Not knowing why she did it, Hermione knelt by his side and stared into his face. The way he had looked into Harry's eyes as he died . . . she knew he had wanted to look upon the eyes of Lily Evans, the only woman he ever loved, until his eyes could see no more. Hermione sighed. _Lily Evans_, a girl who, simply by being herself, had inspired in a boy she called friend a love that would last until the day that he died, and would continue in him even after she had died. It was the reason Snape had saved Harry those countless times, it was the reason Snape had turned away from the dark lord, it was the reason that Snape had, for Dumbledore, returned to the dark lord as a spy for the good side, and it was the reason Snape had given Harry his memories; love for Lily Evans. Hermione wondered if she would ever be the catalyst for such love to spring up in a man.

She found herself pitying Snape even more as she thought about it. But then her thoughts switched to Ron. Did he love her like Snape had loved Harry's mother? Was it everlasting, unfaltering love and devotion that he had for her or was it something less? She wanted it to be nothing less than what Snape had had for Lily. But it was less and she knew it; they were only seventeen and still too young to truly love each other that way. Hermione loved Harry and Ron both so much, but it wasn't _that _kind of love. She loved those two as family, as friends, not the way that her parents loved each other. Not the way that Arthur and Molly Weasley loved each other. Not the way that Lupin and Tonks had loved each other. Not the way that Snape had loved Lily Evans. Having never really thought about it before, Hermione was lost in wondering over the subject of true love for a while, so long that she even forgot that she was staring down at the face of a dead man.

When she woke from her reverie, she realized what a sorry state Snape was in. Wondering what was causing her to do it, she reached for the beaded bag she had stored in her sock and pulled from it multiple small bottles of potions and rags. She used a water-soaked rag first, wiping the blood from Snape's neck. It was the strangest thing in the world for her to do, but she did it as a sleepwalker—almost unaware of her own actions and not consciously deciding to do them. When she looked down at her hands next she had set the bloody rag aside and now held one soaked in a solution with healing properties. She raised her hand and blotted the solution in his wounds. Why? Why was she doing it? She knew in full that he was dead and healing potions would not help him return. But she felt obligated to do it, and her will was too weak to stop herself, so she continued to tend to his wounds as if he could recover.

When she was finished his neck was much cleaner before, and it would have been normal had there not been deep gashes and fang marks cut into it. Pulling a white gauze bandage from her bag, she held the edge at the front of Snape's throat, just under his chin. Then she wrapped the bandage around his neck lightly but with slight pressure just once so that it would hold the end of the cloth beneath it, and she lifted her old potion master's head with one hand and wrapped with the other. She wrapped his wounds as if he was alive and breathing and she needed to make the bandage firm and with slight pressure to keep the wounds from bleeding, but also as if he needed to breathe so she couldn't wrap it too tight.

Feeling like a coroner preparing a dead person to be buried, she finished the wrapping and lifted his cravat and the proper pieces of his clothing, redressing his throat and buttoning his shirtwaist all of the way up. It hid the bandage and made him look almost alright. She looked over his face again when she was done and then realized that his eyes were still open. She swallowed, reaching up and brushing his eyelids gently downward, closing them carefully. She wanted nothing more than to stop touching him, but had to do it slowly so not to poke his eyes or brush any other part of his face. She pulled her fingers away from his face, but as she did she felt his eyelid twitch beneath her fingertip. Covering her mouth with her hands to keep from screaming, her bag fell from her lap and she snatched her want as she jumped back, one hand still clamped over her mouth to keep from shouting out in fear.

The man did not move. Having been convinced that he had twitched, she watched him apprehensively, but then wasn't so sure. Had she imagined it? Did she wish he was still alive so much that she had allowed herself to give in to her hallucinations?

She took a deep breath, still watching him, and edged forward, the hand that held her wand feeling along the floor until she found her beaded bag. She pulled it back to her. One hand was still clamped firmly over her mouth, and she removed it slowly. Her lips trembled as she watched him. Her whole body trembled. Surely she had imagined it; he was dead. A terrible thought came to her. No, he couldn't be an inferi, could he? She bit her lip and grasped her wand tightly in her hand. But Voldemort was dead and there was no way anyone else could have found him and put the enchantment on him. Many of the death eaters were dead, and those who lived were all fleeing and being caught by the ministry's aurors. No, he could not be an inferi.

Hermione bit her lip. The Malfoys were still at Hogwarts. But no, Narcissa had lied to Voldemort and told him Harry was dead, Harry had told her. And Harry had told everyone else at the castle, including Kingsley, who was the temporary Minister of Magic. The Malfoy name had been cleared by Narcissa's lie to her master and by the fact that she and Lucius hadn't fought in the battle and had instead searched for their son. Perhaps they had been cowardly and Draco's mother had only lied so that she could go to the castle to find her son, but she had saved Harry's life. Hate them as she did, Hermione was grateful that Harry was alive so she had not argued when Harry said that they should go free. Kingsley Shacklebolt had seemed unhappy with Harry's desire, but had given in grudgingly with a dire warning said straight at the Malfoys' faces; "If any of you lot mess with the dark side of things again, the Ministry will not be this lenient. As it is, your"—he had pointed to Narcissa with his wand, almost threateningly—"lie to the dark lord is the only reason you are free. Do you understand?" And the cowards had nodded and backed away, clinging to each other and trying to melt into the shadows in the corner. Satisfied, the Minister of Magic had left to take care of other duties.

Having gotten lost in her thoughts, Hermione was now brought back to the present. She blinked a few times as the sunlight found its way in through the cracks in the walls and the places where the boarded-up windows weren't quite covered. She looked down at the body before her, having remembered its existence for the first time. With a shriek she jumped back once again, clutching her bag in one hand and her wand in the other. She pointed the wand at the man on the floor and stared, wide-eyed. He didn't move. But that wasn't enough. She was convinced that she had felt his eyelid twitch earlier. While she wasn't paying attention and had been lost in the past, something had changed. He had moved. He _had to_ have moved.

His eyes were now open. She stared down at him, paralyzed. Shocked, afraid, curious but apprehensive, she could only stand with her back pressed against the wall and stare. It was like that for five whole minutes; Hermione standing tense and waiting, her wand ready, watching the man who was supposed to be dead. He did not move.

Hermione's breathing was even. Her face was calm. She was ready for action on the outside, but her head was swimming. Questions flew to her mouth, but she did not speak because she knew she wouldn't get an answer. He _was_ dead, after all, right? Biting her lip nervously, she approached him slowly, wand still held at the ready. Having tucked her beaded bag in her pocket, she reached out and closed his eyes again with a brush of her fingers. This time, she did it swiftly, though just as gently as before. She stepped back quickly and watched his face, transfixed. His eyes remained closed for the longest time, and she was beginning to truly hope she had imagined it all when his lashed fluttered suddenly and then his eyes flicked open again. She had half expected it, half wanted it to prove she was still in her right mind, but was still so shocked that she barely got her hand over her mouth in time to stop a gasp of surprise from leaving her lips.

She stared at him, wide-eyed. "P-professor Snape?" she asked in a whisper. She felt foolish to be talking to a dead man but also terrified that he might answer her. Then, after a few moments had elapsed in silence, she let out the breath she'd been holding. She had relaxed too soon however, because he did answer. Not with words, but he blinked slowly and turned his once-vacant stare her way. Even just shifting his gaze and blinking seemed to cause him great pain. Hermione noticed with a jolt that his eyes were no longer vacant and dead-looking; they were dark and bright as they had been in life. Whimpering quietly in fear, she took a step towards him. "Professor?" she asked again, just as quietly as before. His eyes followed her movement as she approached him and leaned down. She did not touch him and was tense and ready to jump away and shout a jinx in a moment. He stared at her. Their eyes met and she stared into the black orbs, searching, beseeching.

Hesitantly, she reached out and pressed two fingers to his neck just beneath his jawbone so not to touch the place his wounds were hidden beneath his collar. A pulse, faint but existent, warmed her finger. She drew back, staring at him, her mouth open in shock. "But y-you're d-dead," she breathed. He just stared at her. He seemed unable to do more than blink every so often, either too weak or in too much pain to do more. But he was glaring, and she got the feeling that he would have snapped something about obviously being alive if he could speak. They stared at each other for a few moments and the silence was no longer tense, it was almost comfortable. Then, Snape tilted his head to the side, towards her. She started in surprise at his movement and then searched his eyes. Taken aback, she gaped; they looked to be a dark chocolate-brown rather than black. He didn't speak, but they had a conversation with their eyes. There was gratitude in his eyes, she was sure of it. But was it possible? Could the cruel Professor Snape really be grateful to anyone for anything? And could he be grateful if he was dead?

_No_, Hermione scolded herself inwardly, or course he wasn't dead. His heart was beating. He was blinking now and then. And his brow creased and he seemed to be concentrating hard on something. It was as if he could hear something that she couldn't. Hermione listened hard but heard nothing other than the birds, which had begun singing outside of the shrieking shack, and the light breeze as it caressed the world outside and whined against the side of the shack. Was that was he was listening to? She had looked up to the window as she pondered, and now looked back down at his face. He looked into her face for a moment and then his eyes closed and stayed that way. She didn't really feel attached to him, but for some reason the idea of his dying cut her to the core, especially now that she'd seen him alive.

"N-no," she whimpered as she reached forward and pressed her fingers in the same place beneath his jaw once more. But he appeared to be resting or unconscious, for his heart beat on. Relieved, she leaned back and watched him for a moment before standing. She mouthed the words to a complicated spell, saying it in her mind, and pointed her wand at him, raising it a bit. He rose with it, lying on thin air as he would have lain on his back on the floor or on a board. She directed him towards the tunnel and he floated through the air smoothly and slowly.

A matter of minutes later she was walking towards the school with Snape floating along beside her. She made it to the entrance hall before Ron found her. He grinned and said, "God, 'Mione, where've you been? I was going mental looking for you and . . ." he trailed off when his eyes found Snape and his nose wrinkled in dislike. "What'd you bring him in here for? Is _that_ where you went? Bloody Hell, Hermione."

"Where's Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione asked without answering his questions.

Ron looked abashed. "Er, what? I mean, I think she's in the Great Hall, but . . ." he jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the large doors behind him and stopped talking when his girlfriend walked away without a second glance at him, their dead potions master floating along beside her.

The school looked different than when she'd left it. All of the Ministry workers had left and taken the injured to Saint Mungo's. The dead had had their wounds cleaned much like Snape, and their families had taken many of them away, and very few remained. Madam Pomfrey was talking to Professor McGonagall but neither looked very deeply interested in their conversation. Hermione understood; both women had much more important things on their mind. They didn't notice her until she walked up and then both woman stared, stricken, at Snape. They looked to Hermione for an explanation.

"He's alive," she said meekly.

Madam Pomfrey was at his side in an instant and felt for a pulse. Her eyes widened. "Merlin! Minerva, help me get him over her in the corner?" and the two older witches took over while Hermione explained. She changed the story a bit, making it sound as if she'd gone back to retrieve his body and he had twitched. After she found that he was alive was the time she had supposedly cleaned and bandaged him. The school nurse undid Hermione's careful work just to be sure, but upon hearing what Hermione had used to help him she nodded; she could do no better. They rewrapped his neck and laid him on the ground. More than one curious bystander had come to see Snape's body and soon the news spread like wildfire that he was alive, though in critical condition.

Ron came over as soon as he heard and gaped at Hermione. "Blimey, 'Mione, what did you do to him? We watched him die!"

Professor McGonagall gave him a stern look and he withered beneath her gaze. "Mr. Weasley," she said calmly, "it would be much appreciated if you did not speak so brazenly of death, especially when the one you speak of is still living but very close to slipping away." Ron nodded, his face as red as his hair. Hermione felt the same way she had when he returned to Harry and her after deserting them; furious and disbelieving that he would do or say such a thing. She held her tongue, though, and chose not to retort. Turning her back on her boyfriend, she was surprised when Professor McGonagall said, "Miss Granger, would you accompany me and take this poor man to Saint Mungo's?"

Hermione nodded after a moment. "Of course."

She looked at Ron, who gazed quizzically at her for a moment. Then she put her hand on the older witch's arm and they were sucked into the crushing darkness, appearing a moment later just outside of the empty shop that was the secret entrance to the wizard hospital. They were inside and at the desk a moment later, Snape floating alongside them yet again. The witch at the desk informed them where to go and they made their way to the proper floor and then the right part of the floor. Snape was taken to a large corridor and then they were ushered through a door in the corner and into a small room. He would get a room to himself because he was in critical condition. Hermione explained how Snape had gotten injured and how she was sure he'd been dead, retelling her slightly adjusted story of what happened when she was alone in the shrieking shack. Then the two witches were dismissed as a small group of wizard healers entered the room to look at Snape more closely.

Professor McGonagall led Hermione to a small room off the side of the hall they had walked down and they sat in the chairs. It was a waiting room, and it was completely empty besides to two of them. Hermione was not at all surprised when her favorite professor turned to her after a moment's silence and asked quietly, "Would you please recount things _exactly_ as they happened?"

Sensing that her teacher knew that there was more than what her original story entailed, Hermione recounted her experience, starting with how she had slipped away from the Great Hall and left Ron because she needed some time alone to think. When she had finished, having given every detail, the older woman pursed her lips and stared into the distance. "Professor," Hermione asked quietly after a while. The thoughtful witch turned to look at her. "How do you think . . .?" Hermione looked hopefully up at her elder; perhaps the teacher knew.

"I believe—and this is only just an idea—that perhaps for the same reason that Potter lives, Snape lives." Seeing the confused look on Hermione's face, she explained, "Potter accepted that he would die and he put himself into the position to die for those that he loved, in the hope that it would save them from the same fate."

Comprehension dawned on Hermione's face. "And Snape died for someone he loved just as Harry did—or, would have—so love protected him like it protected Harry, because love is the only thing that Dark Magic can't overpower," she finished.

The Gryffindor head of house nodded. Then she changed the subject. "While I am sure most others are content to know only as much as Potter told Voldemort during their last duel about Snape, I am curious, how did Potter know these things? And what are the details?"

So Hermione explained that as well. When Professor McGonagall knew just as much as Hermione did about everything, the two fell silent, and no sound broke it until the door opened and the healer in charge of the group who had been tending to Snape walked in. At his entrance, the two witches rose from their seats. "If you would follow me," The healer said, nodding to the door. They walked out into the hall. On the way, he explained, "His wounds are terrible. It is as if death tried to take him, but couldn't. Now," he sighed deeply, and the Hermione noticed the older witch glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, "I believe that his protection will only go so far, whatever it may be. He will die if he gives up. His only hope would be phoenix tears."

Professor McGonagall stopped walking and the healer stopped too, turning to look at her. Hermione slowed to a stop, turning to watch the two of them. "You're sure there's nothing else?" McGonagall asked.

He nodded. Then he pointed across the corridor, which they had entered, and said, "You know where his room is." Then he lowered his voice, but Hermione still heard, "He doesn't have much longer." And then, to her horror, his voice acquired an almost teasing tone and he added, "Unless you carry phoenix tears with you, of course." Then he was very serious and finished with, "In which case I would have to confiscate them for the good of the poor people within these walls." He walked away.

Professor McGonagall stared coldly after him. Hermione was shocked that he would be so blatantly humorous about death and that he had suddenly become so serious and menacing about the tears. She sighed. "What I wouldn't give to have Fawkes back here with us," she said quietly. Professor McGonagall nodded gravely. Then she led Hermione to the room where Snape was lying in a hospital bed. Everything was white; the sheets, the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the doors, the window panes, everything.

The older witch closed the door behind them and they approached the bed, one on either side of the unconscious man. Hermione was on the verge of tears, seeing how far Snape had come since she'd thought him dead. But Professor McGonagall shook her head. Reaching into her robes, she withdrew a small glass phial and inspected it. Hermione stared at the bottle, which was full of a gleaming, translucent liquid. It could have been water. "What-" Hermione began, but the professor held up her hand for silence. She set the phial on the desk beside the bed and reached up, carefully undoing the bandages at the dying man's throat. Hermione was dying to ask questions, but stayed silent. When the wrappings had been taken away from the grotesque and gaping wounds, the professor set the cloth on the bed and grabbed the flask. She uncorked the phial carefully and held it over Snape's neck. Then she tilted it so that two drops fell into each gash in the sensitive skin. The witch placed the cork back in the bottle and held it in her hands.

Before their eyes, the wounds began to heal. Before one whole minute had elapsed, all of them had closed and all that remained as proof of them were several lines of pink, new skin; scars. Hermione stared, transfixed, until the scars were all that was left and it was over. She looked up at her head of house and whispered reverently, "Phoenix tears."

The professor nodded. Seeing the questioning look on her student's face, she nodded down at the glass phial in her hands and whispered, "Dumbledore saved Fawkes' tears in this. He filled it to the brim and then took no more from the bird. They were in his office and he told me of them only days before his death. I have kept them on my person since, because though they would be safer within the walls of Hogwarts, I always feared that I would have need of them but would be unable to summon them fast enough."

Hermione nodded. She looked down at the scars on Snape's neck one more time before Professor McGonagall rewrapped the cloth around it, making it look exactly as the healer's had left it. "Won't they suspect?" Hermione asked quietly.

The older witch nodded. "They would be foolish not to. However," she straightened, no longer leaning over the bed, "they will not find out the truth." She raised her eyebrows at Hermione, who understood. "I trust," she went on, just as quietly as before, "that you will speak of this to no one, not even Potter and Weasley. To own a phoenix as Dumbledore did is one thing, but to collect its tears and keep them as a personal possession and not turn them over to the Ministry to go to Saint Mungo's is considered a crime."

"I won't say a word," Hermione breathed, the gravity of the situation hitting her.

The older witch nodded. Then she looked lovingly down at the phial in her hands. Almost, Hermione thought, as if she were saying goodbye to it. Hermione was shocked when Professor McGonagall held out the flask to her. She didn't take it, but stayed frozen where she was.

"Miss Granger," the professor said, a smile lighting her face, "Potter and Weasley want to be aurors, I believe?" Hermione nodded. "And Mister Longbottom plans to take over after Professor Sprout leaves," Hermione had never heard this before, but it made sense. The older woman continued, "And while you have never voiced your desired future to me, I have a sixth sense, perhaps a bit of a Dumbledore-given-hunch, that you will need these. Use them wisely and carry them with you always. You can keep them in that beaded bag that always seems to have what you need within it," and she winked at the last part, pressing the phial into Hermione's hands. Hermione lifted it and stared at it for a long while before taking her bag from inside of her robes and placing the flask within before putting the bag back into its secret pocket. "Use them well," Professor McGonagall said quietly. Seconds later the healer they had spoken to earlier walked in.

"Have you said your goodbyes?" he asked.

The professor nodded. The healer looked suspiciously from one to the other, obviously having expected tears from at least the younger of the two. "He was not a close friend," McGonagall said after a while. She turned and looked at Hermione. "Come," was all she said, and they walked out of the room.

When they were a distance from the now-closed door to the room where Snape lay, McGonagall said quietly, "I'm afraid I must ask you not to look back, no matter what they say or do." She offered Hermione her arm. Hermione took it, nodding. They were at the entrance to the hospital when a door behind them burst open and the healer yelled, "Wait, he's healed! Come back and tell us what you used!"

Neither looked back, and as soon as they stepped out of the door and onto the crowded muggle street the professor turned and they were enveloped by crushing darkness and then they were back in the Great Hall. Hermione realized for the first time that they had apparated right into Hogwarts. The professor seemed to read her mind. "I lifted the enchantments for the Ministry's arrival and the families' departures with their children and their deceased members. I have yet to set them again." And then she turned and walked to speak to Madam Pomfrey, who was standing in the same corner where they had left her, wringing her hands and looking nervous. She greeted McGonagall with a loud gasp of, "Minerva!" and they were involved in a serious conversation at once.

Ron, and now Harry, who was awake and back in public, found her and began questioning her right away. She told them her remade story of what happened in the shrieking shack and explained that Snape was in Saint Mungo's and it was unclear whether he would survive or not. When the boys were finally satisfied with her answers, she was able to breathe again and she could stop worrying that she might let it slip about the phoenix tears. Harry and Ron were planning on coming back to the Burrow and they wanted her along. She went and told Professor McGonagall and then the three of them grasped hands and were momentarily consumed by smothering darkness before their feet hit the ground just outside of the protective boundaries near the Burrow.

Hermione started talking about going to Australia to fix her parents memories so they knew who she was, and Ron and Harry were already discussing their future as aurors. The three of them walked back together, Ron and Hermione holding hands and Harry with his arm around her. Hermione's hand strayed to the secret pocket inside her robes and she let her fingertips brush the phial of phoenix tears before putting an arm around Harry and kissing Ron on the cheek.

**Okay, thanks for checking out my story! This is my first Snamione (and my first fic ever) so please be kind, but I'd love it if you left me a review! I know where I'd like to take this story, but there are still some points that I have yet to work out. Thanks again. Love you all! ~Taelr**


	2. Return to Hogwarts

Hermione woke up and knew she'd slept in by the sun shining through Ginny's window. She jumped up and dressed before hurrying downstairs to the kitchen. She could hear the complaints before she'd even made it into the room.

"Aw, mum, do we have to?"

"Really, I don't think this is necessary."

"He's just going to throw them away without reading them!"

Hermione walked in and sat down at the table. Harry grinned up at her. Sulking on either side of him were Ron and Ginny, and George was in the seat beside Hermione's. Percy was leaning against the counter, watching them like their mother. "What's up?" Hermione asked.

Ginny had picked up a quill but dropped it dejectedly on the table. "Mum's making us write letters to Snape."

Ron nodded gravely at his sisters words. Then he turned to his mother. "C'mon, the old bat won't even read them! And even if he _does _they won't be appreciated!"

George looked worse than all of them. Hermione had only to glance at him and know that now, even a week after the battle at Hogwarts, he was still feeling the worst of it. The two youngest Weasleys and Harry and Hermione had gotten together and agreed to remember, but not to dwell, on what had happened that day. It was over. That was that. They had all experienced so many losses. All of the Weasleys were mourning Fred, as were Hermione and Harry. But George had it the worst. Fred was his twin, his identical twin. Losing him was like losing half of himself. George was struggling, and everyone else was making it as easy for him as they could, but only time would heal his wounds and even then, they would never truly close off and disappear. The loss of Fred was a scar that would mark the Weasley family for the rest of their lives.

But the Weasley twin just sighed and dipped his quill in ink before beginning to write. He didn't even look like he would try to stick one of the products of _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ into the note when his mum's back was turned. Ron and Ginny sighed too, huffing irritably, but they too began to write. Molly Weasley leaned over their shoulders, moving from one to the other and muttering, "Nothing unkind," and shooting a glance at Ron, who seemed to be having a difficult time keeping a straight face about something. His shoulders slumped and he crossed out an entire three lines on his parchment.

"Gee, Ron," Hermione joked, trying to lift the mood, "I didn't know you could write more than three lines!"

He grinned up at her and nodded. "Never before, but insulting the old bat of the dungeons? What can I say? It brings out the best in me." He puffed his chest up with false pride but quickly deflated under his mother's icy glare.

Noticing Percy, Molly turned to him. "Did you write one?" She seemed undecided as to whether or not Percy would be obligated to write an apology for being so terrible to Professor Snape.

He nodded. "Course, Mum. I even added how sorry I was that I was a Gryffindor because he had to take so many points away from me." He winked at Ron for the last part and the latter grinned wolfishly.

Five minutes later Ron threw his quill down—the dramatic effect was ruined because it spiraled, floating on the air instead of crashing down—and announced, "Done!" His mother snatched the parchment from the table and read it once. Then she read it again. Her shoulders sagged as she looked at her youngest son.

"Ronald," she sighed, "I thought that school did you some good. Look at this," and she handed it to Hermione.

Hermione took it, read it through, and had to exercise all of her self control not to burst out laughing. She held up the parchment and looked at Ron. "_This_ took you ten minutes to write?!" Then, noting the curious looks from everyone who had yet to read it, she cleared her throat and read, "_Snape, I'm sorry I was such a bad student. I hope you get better soon. –Ronald Weasley."_

Ginny giggled at her brother. George actually cracked a smile. Harry grinned and Hermione looked serious, while Mrs. Weasley looked sagely from one to the next. Percy burst out laughing. And then they were all laughing. "But that's not all," Hermione went on, barely suppressing more laughter. Above the words she'd just read were several smudges that had been sentences he'd crossed out. All but one sentence were so badly smudged that she couldn't read them. The one, barely-discernible group of words was as follows:

_Snape. Sorry this happened. Believe me, I wish you hadn't survived just as much as you do. But I'm glad you're in pain. Serves you right, you old git! –Ron Weasley._

Hermione read it to the rest of them. This brought even more passionate laughter from Percy, and eventually they all joined in. Ginny and George handed their letters in as well, and Molly approved of them as soon as she read them. It seemed that George had even lost the heart to joke about his hate for the potions master.

Everyone else had eaten breakfast, but Mrs. Weasley had set aside some for Hermione, and she was served and ate while everyone else sat at the table and talked. She was beginning to actually like Percy now that he was back in the family and acting like a true Weasley with the rest of them. Once more, her thoughts drifted to Snape's love for Lily and she wondered whether Ron would ever love her that way. He caught her looking at him and grinned.

She had just finished breakfast and flicked her wand, causing her dishes to float to the sink and set themselves down, when one of the school owls flew in through the open window. Every head turned to watch as it landed on the table in front of Hermione. Frowning slightly, she untied the letter from its leg. Mrs. Weasley grabbed a scrap of bacon and gave it to the owl, which flew to the window but did not leave. "Looks to me like he's waiting to take your reply back with him," Molly observed, turning to Hermione.

Hermione unrolled the parchment. To her surprise, it was from Professor McGonagall.

_Miss Granger,_

_It has occurred to me that a meeting with the Minister of Magic will be necessary for your friends, Mister Potter and Mister Weasley, to pursue their ambitions of becoming aurors. I also ask that you come along, as I must speak with you about urgent matters. I simply ask that your reply hold the time of your arrival and hope that you can travel here as soon as possible. You may floo into my office, as the fire is always open._

_~Minerva McGonagall_

Hermione read it through once more to be sure she understood and turned to Harry and Ron. "Professor McGonagall wants us at Hogwarts as soon as possible. She's going to arrange a meeting for you two—probably to discuss how you will continue your studies if you want to become aurors—and something urgent to talk to me about."

As she talked, she wrote a short answer for the professor and handed it to Mrs. Weasley, who tied it to the owl's leg. The bird took off. Hermione watched it until it was out of sight and said without taking her eyes from the window, "She's expecting us to floo to the fire in her office anytime now."

Ginny stood up. "But that's not fair," she said quietly. She turned her eyes to Harry. Hermione felt her heart aching for her best friends; Ginny and Harry had been together the year before, but Harry had ended it in fear of Voldemort's threat to anyone he cared about. Now, after the war was over and the threats were gone, Ginny and Harry had only had a week together again as a couple and already they were being pulled apart. To her surprise, Hermione didn't at all feel sad by the idea of Ron having to study while she stayed at the Burrow. She didn't think she'd even miss him that much. Pondering her own lack of emotion, she failed to notice Ginny throwing herself in Harry's waiting arms. She was so lost in thought that she didn't see their embrace, or their kiss. Ron sauntered over and had his arms around her before she came back to reality. She stood on her toes and kissed him. And while her lips were touching his she was sure she'd miss him once they were apart. But the moment he broke away the passion that had stirred within her disappeared. And really, it wasn't even like she and Ron were parting now; they were going to Hogwarts together and they would be there together for a bit before they split up, _if_ they even did separate.

"We'd better be off," Harry said when he finally broke away from Ginny. She still had her arms around his neck but wasn't snogging him anymore. It wasn't unexpected when Mrs. Weasley hugged them all one at a time and in a very motherly way. George hugged Hermione, slapped Harry on the back, and tussled Ron's flaming hair. To Hermione's pleased surprise, Percy walked over and shook Harry's hand, and it wasn't in a business-like fashion; he shook it warmly and then clapped him on the back and pulled him into a half-hug. Then he moved on to Ron, pounding his back and pulling him into the same kind of hug he'd given Harry. When he reached Hermione he just pulled her into an actual hug. She found herself blushing afterward, even though she didn't feel for Percy in any way other than for an older brother; she was just caught off guard by his actions. She smiled and said, "I'll see you in just a bit," to Ginny, and they hugged.

"Give Dad our best," Ron said before tossing floo powder into the fire, which turned green. He stepped into it, saying clearly, "McGonagall's office," as he did.

Harry was next. "Thanks, for everything," he said, looking to Molly with sincere gratitude on his face. Hermione knew she was like a mother to him, as he'd never really known his own. He, too, stepped into the fire, stating his desired destination, and disappeared. Hermione looked at Ginny. It was obvious that she would burst into tears the moment her older friend had left. Hermione gave her a reassuring smile and flooed away just like her boyfriend and one of her two best friends had already done.

She was spinning, spinning, and then she stepped out into what had once been Dumbledore's office. McGonagall was now the headmaster of Hogwarts, though school wouldn't start until that September, _if _it had been fully repaired by then. Removing the ash from her clothing, Hermione looked around. The office was just as it had been when Dumbledore was headmaster, the only difference being the absence of his pet phoenix. At the thought of Fawkes, Hermione remembered the phial of his tears for the first time in days. Finding the two boys struggling to rid themselves of ash and soot and getting it all over the floor, she flicked her wand at them and it fell from their clothes and rose from the floor, returning to the fireplace where it belonged. Ron walked over. "Thanks, 'Mione," he said, and was about to pull her in for a kiss, but she ducked out of his arms and faced the door to greet Professor McGonagall, who was just walking in.

She looked pleased to see them. "Oh," she said, smiling, "I've only just returned from receiving your owl. I'm glad to see you."

The trio nodded and sat down in the three seats that were arranged before the grand desk, behind which the small witch with graying black hair placed herself. "Welcome back to Hogwarts," she said with a smile, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. She looked to the boys. "Kingsley is waiting in the Great Hall to talk to you. He is expecting you at any time."

The two nodded, understanding that they were dismissed, and left the room. Once the door had closed behind them Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. Hermione sat up a little straighter in her seat and waited. "Miss Granger, I am aware of the assistance you gave Potter in the quest that Dumbledore sent him on. I am also aware of how very hard you worked and the effort you put into your studies throughout your time here as a student. Now, we discussed some interesting ideas for your future a few years ago before you took your OWLs, but you were unable to study for, or take, your NEWTs, because of your accompanying Potter and then your participation in the war." She paused for a moment, readjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose before continuing with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. "I have also become aware of your superb skill with spells. It is, for your talent and your work ethic, that I would like to ask you to remain here at Hogwarts throughout the summer and assist several older witches and wizards, including myself, in the reconstruction of our school.

"Of course, you would be allowed several weeks of leave to visit your parents and reverse your wonderfully-thought-of enchantment that was placed upon them. I would accompany you if you wanted me along for assistance should you have trouble. However, I do not doubt your ability to restore your parents' memories in full. Should you decide to accept my offer, you will stay in the teachers' quarters in the dungeons, in a set of rooms neighboring my own. You would also be paid by the ministry, as your work will contribute to the futures of many young witches and wizards."

She fell silent and Hermione mulled over what she had said. Accepting sounded like a very good idea, though she knew it would be difficult for her, as it surely would for the others, to walk certain parts of the castle where tragedies that had personally hurt them had taken place. And there was something strange in McGonagall's voice, as if there was a bit more to the whole thing than she'd said so far. Hermione looked at her, waiting for the rest. Seeing that her favorite student had caught on, the professor smiled. "Also," she said, eyes twinkling once more, "At the end of the summer, should you have proved yourself capable—though I do believe that you already have—you would be offered the position of Transfiguration teacher, as I as headmistress will have other matters to attend to."

Hermione's mouth fell open slightly. She stared. Could it really be true? Could she be a teacher here, at Hogwarts, the place she loved so much? She smiled. "I accept."

Professor McGonagall smiled, but it faltered after a moment. "There is something else I must ask you to do, though you needn't feel forced or obligated to accept if you don't want to," she said slowly, watching Hermione's face carefully. "Professor Snape will hopefully be well enough and recovered by the end of summer to continue teaching. Until then, however, he is in need of someone to nurse him back to health. He will be in his own chambers, and as Madam Pomfrey has been called away on urgent business, he lacks the proper care."

Hermione's brow creased. "But Professor," she said quietly, quite shocked, "I hardly think I'm fitting for the job . . ."

"Nonsense, you are the most gentle, loving witch I know of and you are also firm and rule-abiding. A bit of care and love is exactly what poor Severus needs. He hasn't come around yet, but as soon as he has regained consciousness he will return here to the school. I can ask for him to remain at Saint Mungo's until you have returned from your parents."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I'll try my best, I suppose, if you think I would do well for him . . ." she trailed off.

Before she could pick up the conversation again, McGonagall said, "Oh it wasn't my idea, dear."

Hermione looked curiously up from her hands at the older witch. "What do you mean?" she asked.

McGonagall turned and glanced at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore hanging not far away on the wall. Hermione followed her gaze and found the old man within the frame gazing at her with a slight smile on his face. Turning her eyes back to the headmistress, Hermione said slowly, "I still don't understand."

McGonagall shook her head a bit and said, "It was all Albus' idea. I'm not sure why he's so adamant, but he asked specifically for you to be the one who helped Severus recover."

Hermione looked between the portrait and McGonagall, but the more she tried to understand why Dumbledore would have wanted her for the job, the more confused she got, so she stopped thinking about it. "I'll do it," she said to settle the matter and get it off her mind. Then, desperate to clear her mind of confusing thoughts, she looked up at McGonagall and asked quietly, "Will you come with me to my parents?"

"Of course, dear," said the older witch, and Hermione hadn't ever thought of her as a motherly figure before, but she found herself doing it now. "Thank you," she said meekly. They fell silent again.

The two sat in silence for a few moments before the headmistress rose and Hermione followed her out the door and down the halls and corridors until they reached the Great Hall. They had only just walked in when Ron and Harry saw them and ran over. McGonagall walked away to speak to the Minister of Magic while the trio talked. Both of the boys were grinning when they stopped at her side.

"How did it go? What's the plan?" Hermione asked, wanting to know whether she would be separated from them or not.

Ron looked like he might start jumping up and down like an excited child. "We're basically already aurors, 'Mione! We don't even have to go through all the years of training; we just show up and take the test! Isn't it great?"

Hermione stared at them. She turned to Harry and raised her eyebrows. He only nodded, seeming momentarily too happy to speak. "No training," Hermione repeated.

Harry found his voice. "Apparently questing and killing horcruxes and the greatest dark wizard ever to live qualifies as a few years of training, yeah."

"No training," she said again, smiling at them. "That's great! I'm happy for you two! When do you take the test?"

At this, both of them looked at the ground, almost as if ashamed of themselves. Hermione was abashed. "What's wrong?" she asked, suddenly a bit apprehensive.

She realized that she had yet to tell them of her plans for the summer and knew that Harry would probably be happier for her, while Ron might get angry that she was planning on leaving the Burrow so soon. She loved it there, but she needed to go restore her parents and bring them back to England before she did anything else. They would understand that much, she knew. But then there was the fact that she had just accepted the job of restoring Hogwarts, which would definitely take longer than her parents' memories. And the idea of caring for Snape was a whole other thing in itself. She wasn't quite comfortable with it herself, but decided that he needed her help and Professor McGonagall—at Dumbledore's request—had asked Hermione to do it instead of someone else, so she must have at least a bit of faith in her. And surely she would be able to back out if she didn't like the job of caring for Snape. Then again, who _would_?

He would have gained consciousness before they brought him back to the school, so he would be awake and aware part of the time, which meant that he would know it was her caring for him. What would he think? Did he remember anything from the shrieking shack when she had come back alone? Did he know it was her who had brought him back after he lost consciousness? Would he guess that phoenix tears had healed his wounds? Would he demand to know where they came from? How soon would he be able to care for himself?

"Her-mio-ne," Ron said slowly and loudly, waving a hand in front of her face. She realized he'd been talking all the while she was thinking.

"Sorry, what did you say?" she asked. He stared at her.

"Blimey, are you feeling alright? You usually memorize speeches and I don't think you even heard mine!" He put a hand on her forehead. "You look normal," he said slowly, but still had the air of a muggle doctor examining a patient from afar.

Ron started his speech again but Harry cut in with, "We're leaving to take the test at the Ministry in a few minutes. If we fail, then we get training. If we pass, we basically start right away and then we'll go wherever they need us. If they don't need us at the present then we go back to the burrow to wait. That's pretty much it."

Ron looked a bit annoyed that his presentation had been ruined, but Harry ignored him. "What'd she need to talk to you about that was so urgent? Or can you tell us?"

Hermione licked her lips. This was it. "I was offered a job."

They looked at her intently, waiting for the rest.

She smiled. "It would entail staying here for the summer and restoring Hogwarts to its previous—or an improved—state. I would be paid by the ministry."

The two boys grinned. "And . . .?"

"I accepted."

They hugged her and smiled and hollered congratulations, but Ron noticed the look on her face. "There's more," he said confidently. She nodded.

"If I've proven myself by the end of summer then I'll take over the position of Transfiguration teacher because McGonagall's headmistress and can't attend to it." She stopped, smiling with them at their further congratulations and wondering when to tell them about Snape. It would probably ruin it for them. Laughing on the inside as she imagined Ron's face when he heard, she could finally wait no longer. She burst, "And I've been asked to nurse Professor Snape back to health once he returns to the school."

The boys' jaws dropped. They gaped at her, trying to comprehend. "What?" Ron asked finally.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Snape's going to teach again in the fall. He's coming back here to the school to recover once he's regained consciousness and McGonagall's asked me to help him in his recovery."

The boys didn't say a word. Finally, after a long stretch of silence, Ron said, disbelievingly, "You accepted?"

Hermione actually felt indignant. "What was I supposed to do, Ronald? Madam Pomfrey's gone away on urgent business and can't take care of him, and they have more desperate patients at Saint Mungo's to deal with so he's coming back here. And in case you forgot, Severus Snape is the reason we're all alive and standing here today. He's the reason Harry's mom had a choice and the reason she protected him and because of him we were able to kill the horcruxes and Voldemort!"

She would have said more but Kingsley Shacklebolt walked up. He nodded to her, smiled, and turned to the boys. "Off we go," he said, and they started to walk away. Hermione guessed that McGonagall had restored the enchantments on the school, preventing them from apparating and disapparating on the grounds.

"Good luck," she called before they went out the door. Ron turned back to look at her but his expression was sour. He obviously hadn't appreciated her scolding. But she didn't care. All the things she'd said were true and she expected her boyfriend to accept her choice in any way other than grudgingly. Harry turned back as well, but he was grinning. It occurred to her that he respected her decision but was wondering how she and Snape would manage to get along. She managed to grin back before he turned away and they left. Hermione fell back into wondering why Dumbledore had wanted her to care for Snape upon his return.

She was brought back from her thoughts once again when Professor McGonagall walked up. "Miss Granger, we are all gathering in the Great Hall at five o'clock to discuss plans for the reconstruction, which will begin tomorrow. I will show to you your rooms in the meantime and you can do as you like until the meeting tonight. I'm sure you will want to return to the Weasley property to retrieve your belongings. We will-" she was interrupted and both women stopped short when, with a _crack, _Kreacher appeared, one hand on her trunk and the other on her large suitcase. Stacked on her trunk were another bag and several books.

"Kreacher?" asked Hermione, surprised. "How did you know to bring me my things?"

"Master sent Kreacher to the Burrow to retrieve the belongings of Miss Granger and asked him to bring them to Hogwarts." He said, bowing until his nose touched the floor.

"Thank you, Kreacher!" Hermione beamed at him.

Several of the Hogwarts house elves appeared and in the next moment they were gone, having taken her luggage to her room. Hermione expected Kreacher to leave, but he was still standing there a moment later. "Was there something else?" She asked, looking down at him curiously.

"Master has ordered Kreacher to stay at Hogwarts with Miss Granger and to obey Miss Granger. Miss Granger is Kreacher's master now, too." He bowed again and then looked up into her eyes.

Hermione straightened. She was going to write Harry a letter right away. He knew she hated elf enslavement! She had come to better understand it in the past few months but still despised the idea of their forced servitude. And now he had sent Kreacher here, to Hogwarts! She didn't mind having her luggage, but she would not have him serve her. "Kreacher," she said kindly, "You may go back to Grimmauld Place."

But the elf simply shook his head. "Thank you, Mistress, but Kreacher wishes to stay here with his Mistress. Master has told Kreacher that he will be busy and traveling now, and Kreacher needs to clean Master's house only so often. Kreacher will stay and serve his Mistress."

Hermione looked down at the elf, thinking. There seemed to be no way of getting around Kreacher's alacrity to serve her. So she sighed and said, "Alright. Thank you, for bringing my things. You may go to the kitchen or wherever you like, Kreacher." The elf bowed again and then disapparated from the hall with a loud _crack_.

The two witches continued walking towards the dungeons. Hermione was only troubled for a short while about Kreacher, though, because a new thought occurred to her; would Snape be tried because he was a death eater? He had originally become one of the dark lord's followers for his own purposes and not for the good of anyone else. He had turned away from the dark lord when Lily Evans' life was threatened and he had pleaded with Dumbledore for help protecting her. When she was killed he had actually returned to Hogwarts and become the potions master, but he claimed to the dark lord that he'd never lost his allegiance, though this was a lie. Snape had truly become good rather than bad, and upon Voldemort's return he had gone back to him as a spy for Dumbledore, though he pretended to be a spy for the dark lord. And on the night when Draco Malfoy succeeded in getting the death eaters and a werewolf into the school, Snape had killed Dumbledore. He had then fled with the other death eaters and gone on to openly declare his allegiance to Voldemort. Hermione remembered how she had hated Snape after he killed Dumbledore. She remembered how she had always defended him against Harry and Ron and was furious to find that he had deserved their spite all along. She had hated him anyway, for being so cruel to her all those years.

But then everything had changed when Harry had seen Snape's memories. Hermione hadn't known what to think when she saw Snape die, and when Harry had told her and Ron about his memories she was shocked. Then everything was turned upside down; she didn't hate Snape, how could she? He was the reason they had accomplished everything they had. And suddenly he was a hero. A hero who died at the fangs of Voldemort's snake Nagini . . . but he was alive. He would survive. Would the Ministry of Magic recognize that all of his actions had been carefully planned by Dumbledore? Would they accept the wild tale of how his allegiance had changed to Dumbledore before Lily's death and had never wavered since?

They must, Hermione concluded. They could use veritaserum and he would tell them the truth, and it would be alright because they would have to recognize him as a hero and not the enemy. Surely, they wouldn't give him an unfair trial and cart him away to Azkaban, would they? But he had Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the victor over the dark lord, on his side. Harry would stand up for Snape and help him find reconciliation with the Wizengamot. And though Ron might not be willing to help, Hermione was. Yes, she would fight for Snape and his freedom and the recognition of his heroism alongside Harry.

"Professor," she said after a while of walking in silence with the thoughts of Snape and Azkaban buzzing in her head.

The older witch turned and looked at her.

"Will they try Professor Snape in court? Will they accept that he's an innocent hero, not a guilty death eater?" Hermione waited for her answer.

"I'm not sure," she said at last. "The Ministry is still rebuilding itself and Kingsley is only temporarily the Minister of Magic. I hope for the best, and they can't try him until he has fully recovered, but they will try him and he will be declared guilty or innocent. I trust that there is no need for me to expand on what would happen if he was found guilty?"

Hermione shook her head. She knew well enough what happened to death eaters, or what had happened to them. "Do the Dementors still guard Azkaban?" she asked.

"Those that never joined Voldemort's ranks are still there," the professor said, "but the ones which left the ministry will have to be sorted out before they can return."

Hermione nodded. They stopped in front of a large, ceiling-to-floor frame hanging on the stone wall of the dungeon. It appeared to be empty, but the older witch said, "Floo Powder," and the frame swung forward, leaving an opening to walk through. They stepped into what Hermione could only assume was the teacher's lounge. It was nice, almost as large as the Gryffindor common room, and even more inviting with a larger hearth and more comfortable looking chairs. A large curving desk was in the corner, large enough so that more than one person could use it at a time, and magical orbs like the ones in Saint Mungo's floated near the ceiling and lit the room with a soft golden glow. The emblems of the four houses of Hogwarts adorned the room, one on each wall. There had to be around a dozen doors leading from the main room, all closed.

Professor McGonagall led Hermione to the door closest to the fireplace on its left. "This will lead you to your quarters," she said, smiling at Hermione. She motioned to the door on the opposite side of the fireplace and said, "This is mine. If you need me after hours, you may check my office or knock. Of course, we are all counted as equals and staff members here this summer as we will all work on Hogwarts' restoration, so there is no need to feel inferior in any way. The password to my office is _Dumbledore _if you ever need to get in. I do ask that you notify me if you want to floo to another location. You may, of course, visit Hogsmeade any time you like, as you are an adult and a member of the staff." She glanced at the large grandfather clock on the wall that Hermione had failed to notice before and added, "I'll see you in half an hour in the Great Hall." Then she nodded and turned, walking back through the large wooden doors which led to the corridor beyond and the rest of the school.

Hermione took a moment to look at the teacher's lounge again. The Grandfather clock was on the opposite wall as her door and directly across from it. On either side of the main entrance, twin bookshelves rose from floor to ceiling, lined with large, thick books. The couches and seats looked even more inviting than before, but she chose to look at the doors instead. She knew that they led to the teachers' own personal quarters. Upon closer inspection she found that while each was made of thick, dark wood and they all looked alike, each was different from the next. All of them were lacquered and polished so that they gleamed amiably in the golden light, deep reddish-brown. But each had been carved differently.

Hermione decided not to count the number of doors leading from the lounge besides the main one and left it to her own imagination to guess how many there were. There seemed to be around ten or eleven, but she didn't want to know for sure. It was wonderful not knowing but not worrying because it was a trifling matter. She went back to focusing on the doors themselves. Each was carved with an intricate design and in the center of it was an animal. Here on her left there was a horned owl, surrounded by leaf-like designs. On her right she found a doe, surrounded by swirling patterns. She looked at Professor McGonagall's door and found a cat surrounded by wavy lines and arches curving away from it. Could the animals on the doors be the teachers' patronuses? Looking closer, she noticed the strange markings around the cat's eyes. Excited by the idea, she returned to her own door, where square-ish shapes crossed themselves in a mesmerizing and beautiful design. In the center of the shapes an otter was carved twisted into the door, seeming to be in the midst of turning gracefully underwater. So they were patronuses. They must change shape whenever a new staff member was assigned a room, she thought.

She turned the doorknob and pushed it open, stepping inside. She had walked into an open room. The walls were plain white and there was a fireplace on the wall to her left. A study was in the right side of the open room and her bedroom appeared to be in the left. They were separated by a single step, so that the study floor was about a foot lower than that of the bedroom. There was a desk in the corner of the study and a single bookshelf on the wall. A couch was positioned in front of the fire, and between the two a large rug rested on the wooden floor.

In the bedroom there was a large four-poster bed like one from Gryffindor tower, only larger and more comfortable looking, if that was even possible. The floor was wood like in the study and there was a large wardrobe next to the bed. The house elves had left her luggage in front of the wardrobe and put the extra books on the bookshelf in the study. Her trunk was against the foot of her bed, waiting to be unpacked. The sheets were light cream-colored and the curtains around the bed were as well.

From the bedroom she went through a plain door and into her own personal bathroom, with a large sink, a bathtub that appeared to be a miniature version of the one in the prefect's bathroom, and a single toilet, separated from the rest by a plain wall of enchanted glass that wasn't transparent. One of the walls was sheeted with mirror from ceiling to floor and corner to corner. There were more orbs floating on the ceiling here, but they gave off a rather unnatural white light. She walked back into the bedroom and found more orbs there, which she had failed to notice before because they gave off a glow like a fire would. There was a large clock on the wall opposite the bed and it told her she had five minutes before the meeting in the Great Hall would commence.

Smiling to herself and looking around her rooms, she tucked her wand in her robes, glanced in the bathroom mirror to be sure she was presentable, and walked out the door, on her way to her first official meeting as not a student, but a staff member, at Hogwarts.

**And so the story continues! Please review if you have a spare moment and tell me what you think! Thanks so much for reading! I love you all! ~Taelr**


	3. Departure

Hermione sat down at the table just as everyone else did. She counted twelve of them there in all. Twelve people burdened with the task of fixing Hogwarts. Whether it was a terrible or wonderful task, Hermione could not decide. Professor McGonagall sat on her left side and Professor Flitwick was on her right. The ghosts of the school had gathered and floated behind those seated at the table. Several wizards from the Ministry of Magic were seated across the table and then there were others who she didn't recognize. There was no one else who Hermione knew. And then the doors burst open and a huge man with wild black hair and an even wilder beard strode in, limping slightly.

"Hagrid!" Hermione yelled at the sight of him. Forgetting everything else, she jumped up and ran into his open arms. He gave her the usual bone-cracking hug and then set her back on her feet. While she tried to fill her crushed lungs with air again he said, "Hermione! Good to see yeh! Gotta say, I didn't think I'd see yeh 'round here for a while yet!"

They walked back to the table together and Hermione took her seat again while Hagrid pulled up a bench, something strong enough to hold his great weight. He was a half-giant, after all. The meeting began and everyone but Hermione and Hagrid spoke and discussed the best way to go about repairing the school. Eventually they decided that there would be no official place to start and work from and that they would fix things as they came to them. Then they began to discuss who would help where.

The Ministry workers would be working on the exterior, mostly. Professor McGonagall was to oversee their work and to instruct them on any interior restorations they did as well. She would also be working herself. She turned to Hermione. "You know Gryffindor Tower better than any of us. Would you take responsibility for its repair?"

Hermione nodded. She hadn't realized just how extensive the damage to the castle was. Even the common rooms and dormitories had been harmed. While the dungeons remained of course untouched, as did the headmistress' office, the rest of the school seemed to have been hit harder than Hermione had previously thought.

At the end of an hour, papers and plans were folded back up and placed in vanishing folders to be stored until later and the table was cleared. Everything was decided. Professor McGonagall looked from one witch or wizard to the next, reading off of her own list exactly what each person was assigned. "Flitwick, you'll take the hallways and corridors in the east side of the castle. You will also help in any place where the rest of us need assistance. The entrance hall is also yours. Byron, you are in charge of the west and east battlements and the walls facing the forbidden forest . . ."

The list went on and on, until she came to Hermione. "Miss Granger, you will take Gryffindor Tower, the library, and several of the classrooms. You will also work with me on the entrance hall." As Hermione was the last to receive her special instructions, McGonagall turned to face all of them once more. "We will all work on the restoration of the Great Hall and the courtyard outside."

Then she folded the parchment and tucked it in her robes. Smiling, she said, "Now, I fancy some food!"

Immediately food appeared on the table. Upon the food's appearance, Hermione realized that she hadn't had any lunch and was rather hungry. Only a matter of weeks before, she had been questing with Harry and Ron and they had gone without or skipped meals many times. But just a week at the Burrow had caused her to expect large quantities of good food at every meal. But the missed lunch was quickly forgotten as everyone helped themselves and began eating.

Everyone was talking, some were smiling, and a few were even laughing. Hermione had only just swallowed her first bite of bread when Nearly Headless Nick floated to her side. "Hermione," he said, nodding. His head wobbled dangerously and he pulled up his ruff a bit farther on his neck.

"Hi, Nick," she smiled. She refrained from eating with him so close, knowing that it was a greatly depressing thing for ghosts, not being able to eat.

"The castle is wrecked," he said absently, as if she hadn't already seen.

She nodded, but he was staring off into the distance at something she couldn't see.

"Peeves has even offered to help," he muttered before floating away. Hermione was surprised. Peeves the Poltergeist? Helping? That didn't sound like him at all. He was probably hoping to be given something to do and then find some crafty way to mess it up and cause trouble.

Thinking over what Nick had said and the meeting that had just ended, she went back to eating. Hagrid's booming laugh brought her back from her thoughts and she joined in polite conversation with Professor Flitwick, who sounded thrilled to have his best student back and working at Hogwarts. They talked until the end of the meal, though he did most of the talking and she the listening. She didn't mind, though. Eating with the others, she had a feeling of comfort and homeliness even though the castle around them was still in a rough-looking state.

When everyone had finished eating the meal disappeared from the table. Professor McGonagall folded her hands in front of her and everyone waited to hear what she had to say. "The meeting went well; we know where we will start tomorrow. I now trust that I'll see you all at breakfast in the morning!" And with that, she rose from the table. Everyone else followed her lead and stood as well. Hagrid smiled at Hermione before leaving the castle, and everyone else began making their way out of the Great Hall. On her way out, Hermione passed McGonagall.

"Miss Granger," she said, walking beside her. Hermione stopped and turned. The professor went on, "We can leave for Australia whenever you like; Flitwick can keep them busy with the outdoor repairs while we are gone."

Hermione hadn't given her parents a single thoughts since the headmistress had offered to accompany her. "Oh, thank you," she said, smiling. The two women walked back to the teachers' quarters in silence.

Hermione bid the other witches and wizards in the teacher's lounge goodnight, took a few seconds to admire the exquisite carvings on her door, and entered her own room. She closed and locked the door behind her, shutting herself in for the night. Then she turned to the open room before her. The bright white light shone from the open door in the bathroom and clashed unnaturally with the golden light form the bedroom and study. Smiling to herself, Hermione decided it was time to change the room's appearance a bit.

Before she could redecorate, however, she needed to unpack. The elves had brought her things to her room but had left them for her to unpack. She was thankful, as she always enjoyed doing it. Unpacking her things was a simple matter, anyways; with a flick of her wand her suitcase opened and so did the wardrobe, and articles of clothing began folding themselves and lining up on shelves or in drawers or putting themselves on the wire hangers. When all of her clothes and robes were folded or hanging in an organized fashion, her suitcase closed itself and slid beneath the bed and out of sight. Then the trunk opened, seemingly of its own accord, and the books stacked inside rose and flew to the single shelf in the study. Before any had lined themselves on it, though, Hermione realized that one shelf was not enough. She flicked her wand again, and the books stacked themselves neatly on the floor. She made the other books which were already on the shelf stack themselves with the rest and then duplicated the shelf.

But even then, two shelves didn't seem to be enough. So she waved her wand at the entire, bare wall of the study and it became a wall of shelves from floor to ceiling and corner to corner. Pleased with her work, she waved her wand at the books and they flew to the shelves and began organizing themselves. Without the books to fill it, her trunk was rather empty besides the shoebox of personal belongings she'd taken from her bedroom at her parents' old house. She walked to the trunk and leaned down, picking up the shoebox not with magic, but with her own two hands. Books were still moving through the air and on the shelves behind her. She set a small jewelry box in a drawer in the little bedside table and put a glass container of magically preserved flowers, picked from her old home, on the table. Then she tucked a small, leather-bound book in the drawer as well and slid the shoebox under the bed to hide with the suitcase.

Looking around the room once more, she imagined several different ideas for decorating. Finally, still undecided, she pointed her wand at the wall, and the walls and ceiling turned a light cream color like the sheets on the bed where she sat. Unsatisfied, she pointed her wand again and the walls changed to a deep Gryffindor scarlet. Liking the idea, she waved her wand at the entire room and everything became Gryffindor themed. She was a proud Gryffindor, but even she had to admit it was a bit too much. So she pointed her wand at the wall for a third time and a fourth, not quite happy with either of the colors she had chosen.

She spent the next half an hour trying to decide on the right wall color and eventually turned the walls to dark wood paneling that was the same color as the doors leading from the teachers' lounge. This, paired with the bookshelf and the golden light, gave the study and the bedroom comfortable, friendly atmosphere. Now truly enjoying it, she waved her wand at the study and the couch before the fireplace became Gryffindor red. The rug on the hearth became red and gold. She waved her wand at the bedroom and the bedframe became dark wood like that on the walls, while the sheets became red and the curtains around it now hung gold. A dark wooden frame with red canvas stretched across it sprung up, separating the study from the bedroom and shielding the bed from view, leaving an open space to walk through on the opposite side of the bedroom than the four-poster and the wardrobe.

Hermione moved to the bathroom, pointing her wand at the offending orbs on the ceiling, and the light from them changed to the same golden warmth as it was in the other part of her rooms. The walls in the bathroom she changed so that they were red like the couch and the bed, and the sink became cream colored rather than white. The faucets and handles all turned to gold. Feeling accomplished and rather pleased with herself, she walked back out to the bedroom and changed into her pajamas. Then she waved her wand at the room around her and the orbs in the bathroom and the bedroom and study stopped producing light. The fire was burning itself out in the fireplace as she slid into bed and set her wand on the bedside table, closing the curtains around her and falling asleep.

She woke the next morning and rose early enough to enjoy a long, hot bath. It was good to be relaxed again after everything that had happened just a week before. She sat down at her desk and wrote a letter to Harry about Kreacher before going to the bathroom to do her hair and makeup and get ready for the day. She brushed her hair out but used magic to do her makeup once she had seen the time; there was only just enough for her to run up to the owlery and send her letter. Putting her wand in her robes and patting the secret pocket that held her beaded bag and the phoenix tears, she left her rooms and found the teachers' lounge empty. She hurried to the owlery and sent her letter with one of the school owls, making her way quickly down to the Great Hall. She stopped short when with a _crack _that echoed around the corridor she was in, Kreacher appeared. Crookshanks was in his arms, wriggling and trying to get free.

The elf attempted a bow, which looked strange because of the squirming, hissing ball of orange fur in his arms. "Kreacher will take Crookshanks to his Mistress' rooms," he said. Hermione was so surprised by his and her cat's appearance that she didn't say a word and the elf was gone with another resounding _crack_. She glanced at her watch and ran to the Great Hall, composing herself outside the doors and walking in like a civilized person. The others weren't all even there yet, and she relaxed a bit as she took a seat around the same table they had used the night before. A tall witch and two wizards, one broad-shouldered and big, the other looking like a wilting plant, walked in and took their seats. They were the last to enter, and only seconds later breakfast appeared and they began eating.

After the meal, McGonagall looked to Hermione questioningly while the other witches and wizards mulled about in the Great Hall, waiting for the instruction to begin. Hermione walked over and said, "I'd like to leave today, if we can."

She nodded. "Of course." Then she turned to Professor Flitwick. "You know what to do."

He nodded and clapped his hands, catching the attention of the Ministry workers and others who were there to help. They walked over, gathering around the half-goblin, and Hermione smiled at how tiny the poor professor looked, especially standing beside the towering witch from the Ministry. She remembered the first charms lesson she'd ever been in, when the tiny wizard was sitting on a stack of books on his chair just to see over his desk. He had been calling out the names of the new students and when he got to Harry's name he had given a squeak and toppled off of his books and out of sight. She had never thought she'd have affections for any of her teachers, but she found herself more than relieved that all of the staff members who had fought and made it through had survived. She suddenly realized just how much they meant to her.

Her thoughts were interrupted when McGonagall spoke. "We can return to our quarters. I must gather a few things and I'm sure you'll want to add your own possessions to that bag of yours?"

Hermione nodded and they set off towards the teachers' quarters together. They parted and went into their own rooms, and Hermione returned to the lounge and found the headmistress waiting for her. The older witch nodded and they walked back to the entrance hall and out the doors. Once off the school grounds, Hermione took her teacher's arm and they disapparated. It occurred to her while they were being crushed in smothering darkness that she had no idea where the professor was taking her, but it didn't matter to her, as long as they ended up with her parents. Then their feet touched the ground and when she opened her eyes they were standing in the Ministry of Magic.

Hermione didn't ask where they were going when the older witch began to walk and instead followed her without a word, observing the Ministry headquarters and thinking over how the last time she'd been there, she was traveling with Harry and he had been a wanted wizard. Now he was a hero and all of that rubbish was forgotten. But Hermione wouldn't forget. No. She would never forget the hardships they had faced together. It was tough, looking back sometimes, but she simply stored those memories away whenever they became painful to think about. Professor McGonagall had led to her several fires that were green with floo powder.

"Alright Miss Granger, I'm going to tell you where we will be heading to. Once you get there, wait near the fire for me; I'll be right after you. Once we've flooed, we'll apparated again. Now, we'll be flooing to . . ."

**And.. Cliffhanger! Alright, I know this chapter is pretty short and for that I apolagize, but it was necessary for this part of the story! Thanks again to all of my readers and all of you who have reviewed, I wish I could hug you because it means so much to me that you're giving me some feedback! Please review if you have a moment; I'd love to hear from you and it makes me a better writer to know where my mistakes are and to figure out how to make this story better! Thanks again! All my love. ~Taelr**


	4. The Patronus

Hermione stood in the corner and stared into nothingness. She couldn't think. She couldn't speak. She couldn't laugh. She couldn't cry. She could barely even breathe. She blinked once but her eyes stayed unfocused. Her arms hung limply at her sides and her shoulders slumped. She bowed her head and closed her eyes, never wanting to open them again. Losing Fred had been hard. But losing Fred was nothing like losing her parents, especially when they hadn't really gone anywhere.

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said quietly.

To Hermione, it was as if the words came from far off and had to travel through a thick substance like honey before they finally reached her ears. She opened her eyes and slowly looked up at the headmistress. Her eyes flashed inquiry, but only for a moment before she was nothing but a blank stare once more.

"I'm terribly sorry," the headmistress said softly.

Hermione nodded once, twice, three times, and then she was shaking uncontrollably, her body racked with silent sobs and sorrow. Tears welled up in her eyes and she looked up at the older woman through a blur. Then McGonagall did something Hermione had never seen coming; she stepped forward and put her arms around the girl who had once been her student and pulled her into a motherly hug. Then the tears came. Then the sobs were no longer silent. Then the trembling and the shaking that was her anguish came without a fight. She gave up. Leaning limply against the headmistress and burying her face in the shoulder of the kind lady who was offering comfort the only way that she could.

At last, and after much time elapsed, Hermione got ahold of herself. She stopped crying and wiped her eyes with shaky hands, looking up once again at the older witch. She managed a small, sorrowful smile. "Thank you," she said when the professor handed her a handkerchief from her own beaded bag. She finally turned to face the two beds nearest the magical window in the wall. Her parents were lying there, watching her curiously. Her mother tilted her head to one side and then smiled at her as a child smiles in wonder at a butterfly. Her father's eyes wandered to the glowing orbs on the ceiling and he stared, transfixed.

McGonagall sat down in a chair near Mrs. Granger's bed and smiled kindly at the innocent expression on the poor woman's face. Hermione looked to her and opened her mouth to speak but stopped and turned around when a familiar voice said, "Hermione?"

Neville Longbottom was standing in the doorway of the same ward. It was the wing of the hospital dedicated to housing those whose minds had been reduced to those of children, to those who would never recover. Hermione had forgotten that Neville's parents were there. Looking directly across from her parents' beds, she saw Gilderoy Lockhart napping in his own bed. "Hi, Neville," she said. She had tried to sound friendly but her voice cracked and she sounded more exhausted and anguished than even after the battle at Hogwarts when the war was ended.

He walked up and turned, noticing Professor McGonagall with surprise on his face and then looking at her parents, who grinned at him. Hermione's mum bit her lip and smiled widely, showing only her top teeth. Neville's mouth opened slightly. He was obviously shocked. He turned to Hermione, a kind, concerned expression on his face. "What happened?" he whispered.

That was all it took and Hermione was a mess again. She burst into tears and was even more shocked by Neville's actions than she had been by McGonagall's; he walked right up and pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back comfortingly and letting her soak his jumper with tears. He whispered kind, calming things in her ear until she calmed down again and then he took out his own handkerchief and wiped her tears away. He led her over to her mum's bed and sat her down before sitting directly across from her on the edge of her dad's. He looked at her imploringly, and she finally found her voice.

"You know that I- I changed their memories so they would leave and go to Australia to be safe," she said. He nodded; she had told him.

She swallowed and went on, "I thought that since they didn't remember me and they were so far away that they would be fine," upon the last word her voice cracked and she blinked away more tears. "When we got there to restore their memories they weren't there. We asked the neighbors and found out that one was a witch. The death eaters came to the house and when they realized that my parents couldn't give them any information, they thought it would be nice to finish the job I had only partially done." She looked up at Neville, blinking rapidly and hugging herself tightly as if it would help her be rid of the tears. "They erased their memories completely. They're like babies. They don't remember each other, or that magic is real, or the life they used to have here in England, or anything from Australia. They don't even remember _me_." her voice cracked again at the last sentence and she paused, a few tears trickling down her cheeks in silence before she wiped them away.

Neville waited, letting her have time; this was hard and he knew it. But he had grown up with parents who didn't know who he was. He had lived with his Gran his whole life and never realized that it was strange not to have a mother and a father until he had made friends and begun to wonder where his parents were. Finding out wasn't really all that bad because he'd never had them before then. But Hermione's parents had raised her, had made sacrifices for her, had loved her, and had known her. And now all of that was gone. Neville had been denied something. Hermione had been given it and then it was taken away. But still she felt that he was the only person who could truly understand because he'd been through somewhat of the same thing.

"They put the dark mark over the house and the witch next-door was afraid they'd killed my mum or dad . . . or both. She ran over and was at first relieved to find them alive. But then she realized that something was wrong. She had taken them into her own house and been taking care of them, knowing they were British and hoping someone from here would come and look for them and find them there." She sighed deeply. "And we did."

Neville nodded, tears forming in his own eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She nodded and her lips parted in a small but sincere smile as she looked at him. "I still remember the day we were in here with Lockhart and you came in with your Gran." She half expected his face to color at the memory but it didn't. He just nodded and waited for her to continue. "I was so surprised; I'd never given much thought to why you lived with your Gran and not your parents." She smiled at him again, this time wider. "I never thought you were a squib, even when you needed my help in potions or in charms. But that never mattered, because through the years you've proven to be braver then I ever expected, and in the last two years you've become a friend to Harry and Ron and me. If you hadn't killed Nagini then Harry wouldn't have been able to finish off Voldemort. _You_ saved us, Neville. Do you know that?"

He just smiled back and didn't say anything. He didn't have to; they spoke with their eyes, thanking each other and agreeing to try to build on their friendship because they needed each other. They smiled at each other and then both faces bore expressions of sorrow mixed with the courage needed to face the coming days.

Hermione was remembering her talk with Neville in the hospital as she raised her wand. "_Reparo_," she said, and the glass that was lying shattered on the floor lifted itself and became one whole piece again, fitting into the window and looking as if war had never touched it. Some of the damage was easy to undo, like the broken windows or damaged furniture. Other things, like the great wood supports in the ceiling and walls, needed more complicated magic to fix. She pointed her wand to the gaping hole in the side of Gryffindor Tower and muttered the words to the proper spell, and the stone from the outside of the castle returned to its place and the gap in the wall was sealed.

Hermione had been back at Hogwarts for a week since she'd gone and found her parents. Two weeks since the war ended. Strange, she thought, how it felt like years ago that Voldemort had drawn his last breath, and at the same time the grief he had wrought was still strong in her chest. She had returned to Hogwarts with Professor McGonagall and written a letter to Harry and Ron explaining about her parents. They hadn't even written back but had showed up the following evening, and they had found her locked in her room, curled up in bed and never wanting to go out again. But they brought Neville and Luna with them and between the four of her friends Hermione was brought back to her normal self.

Even now it was hard. She had come around at Luna's kind remark about the color of the room and how potent a nargle-repellant the golden light from the fire and the orbs was. Hermione herself had barely held back a laugh when Luna went on to explore the bathroom and commented on how the color of Hermione's wardrobe, contrasting with the color of the bathroom sink, was almost the same color of the rump of a crumple-horned-snortkack. Harry was the most used to Luna's remarks, but he had to bit his lips to keep from laughing. Ron turned bright red and rocked back and forth, tears of silent mirth running down his face. Neville had just looked at Luna with an almost awed expression on his face.

When Hermione turned away from Luna as the strange girl walked back into the bedroom from the bathroom, she noticed Ron, who was still trying so hard not to laugh that he was bright red, shaking uncontrollably, and crying like a baby. She couldn't help but laugh when she saw his face, and when everyone else looked they laughed too. Luna looked concerned. "Do you think you have a virus?" she asked. "You haven't drunk any doxy-egg solution lately, have you?"

Ron stared at her disbelievingly for a moment and then roared with laughter. By the time her friends had left, Hermione was able to smile again. It was still going to take some time getting used to, but having to deal with her parents' absence over the past year had prepared her for what was happening now.

Pulled back to the present by a noise, Hermione looked around the Gryffindor common room for the source of the sound. She ran to the window when a young snowy white owl tapped on the glass once more. Opening it, she let the bird inside and untied the piece of parchment from its leg. It was only a small scrap with excited, messy words scrawled haphazardly across it.

'_Mione,_

_Going to Bulgaria._

_Think they've located_

_Rookwood._

Hermione stared at the paper. Rookwood was the death eater who had caused the explosion that killed Fred. No wonder Ron had written so hastily; he couldn't wait to get his revenge. Harry must have lent Ron his owl. Hermione looked up at the bird. Harry had named her Hedwig, after his first owl, who had been killed while he was being moved from his muggle home to the Burrow. This new Hedwig was younger and not as experienced, but she was affectionate and loyal to Harry just as the first Hedwig had been. Hagrid had bought her for him and sent her to the Burrow after the war was over as a gift. Hermione scribbled two words on the back of Ron's note: _good luck,_ and tied it to Hedwig's leg. Then she watched the beautiful white owl soar away through the sky. She closed the window against the frigid air outside and went back to repairing the common room.

When it was fully restored to its former self, she walked up to the boys' dormitories and fixed them as well. Then she marched into her own old dormitory and began working there. She automatically turned to face her old bed out of habit and smiled at the wave of happy memories that came with the sight of the four-poster near the window.

They were eating dinner that night when a strange owl flew in and landed on the table in front of Hermione. It held out its leg and as soon as the parchment attached to it was free, it took off and left the castle. Curious, Hermione opened it. Talk at the table had ceased and everyone watched her face for a clue as to what the letter said. She unrolled the parchment and found thin, slanted writing not unlike Dumbledore's had been. Her eyes widened in surprise as she read.

_Ms. Granger,_

_We would like to inform you that Severus Snape regained consciousness today and has been awake since. He is still too weak to travel on his own and we ask that you come and retrieve him. It would be ideal for you to do so relatively soon._

_-Saint Mungo's Hospital for magical maladies and injuries_

Hermione looked up at McGonagall, who seemed to have guessed what the letter said. "How did they know to contact me?" Hermione asked, looking back down at the parchment and then back to the headmistress.

"I informed them that you would be the care-giver in this situation. Therefore all contact about the professor's health with Saint Mungo's will go through you." She said.

Everyone went back to eating and talking. Hermione reread the letter, smiling at the last part. _Snape regained consciousness today and has been awake since. It would be ideal for you to retrieve him relatively soon. _He's giving them hell about keeping him in bed and indoors and forcing him to stay in the hospital, she thought. She could apparated after dinner and go straight to Saint Mungo's, and they would make it back before it was too late and he could get settled in. She suppressed a laugh at the thought of "Retrieving" Professor Snape. Something told her that he wouldn't much like being _retrieved_.

After the meal the Ministry witches and Wizards left the hall and Hagrid followed them out. Flitwick stood on his chair when McGonagall rose from hers, and even standing on the chair he only reached her shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something, seemed to decide against it, and closed his mouth again with a frown, hopping down from his chair and walking out of the hall as well. Hermione stood and looked to the headmistress, who nodded towards the door and began walking. The two witches walked side by side and the professor turned in the entrance hall towards the door and not the way that would take them to the teachers' lounge. "I will escort you out of the grounds," she said. I will be in my office if you have need of me once you have returned with Professor Snape."

Hermione nodded. They walked in silence until they were out of the protective boundaries. Then McGonagall nodded to Hermione and the younger witch turned on the spot, being pulled into the crushing darkness before opening her eyes and standing alone in front of the entrance to Saint Mungo's. Unsure of whether or not they had moved Snape to a different room, she went to the front desk and stood in line behind several people. The man in line directly in front of her had ears which kept morphing into large, fuzzy purple wings and whenever they did he would grab them and hold them closed. One time he failed to do this, resulting in their opening and flapping wildly, and he was dragged on his heels quite a distance across the floor before rising off the ground until his feet were dangling in the air at the same height as Hermione's head.

Hermione stared at him, openmouthed, and watched in amazement as one of the hospital's healers ran over and pointed their wand at the man. "_Petrificus Totallus," _he said, and the man's arms and legs, which he had been waving wildly at the wings, straightened and he froze. The wings kept flapping however, and seemed to find it easier to fly when the man wasn't struggling; he rose another meter. Yelping in surprise that the spell hadn't worked on the wings, the healer watched with Hermione as the wings morphed slowly back into ears, flapping until they were flesh and not fuzz. As expected, the man fell from the air as soon as the ears were back and the wings had vanished, and the healer had just enough time to mutter an almost indiscernible charm that stopped him from hitting the ground. He released the petrified man from the spell and kept a hand clamped on his arm as he led him back to the line. The next time the ears changed to wings the weight of the healer as well as the man kept them both safely on the ground.

When the healer had walked away, still holding on to the man with morphing ears, Hermione stepped up to the desk and the witch looked up from a parchment she was writing on. "You look fine to me," she said, looking her up and down.

"Oh," Hermione said, surprised to have been mistaken for someone who had come to be a patient. "Oh no," she blushed, "I'm here to, ah, take Profess—I mean Severus—Snape."

"Ah yes," the witch said, now eyeing Hermione strangely, "He's on the fourth floor in the east wing. I'm sure they'll be quite . . . relieved . . . that you've come to get him."

Dread welled up inside Hermione as she made her way to the proper floor. As soon as she entered the east wing she knew she didn't need to ask which room Snape was in. She was already apprehensive about what he would think of her being his caretaker when it got much worse; two healers, one white in the face and the other crying, clutching her companion's arm, hurried from an open door on the left side of the hall. There was muffled conversation coming through the door and then a burst of shouts that Hermione couldn't make out, followed by a young man who was obviously a healer running from the room with shouts trailing after him. A tray of food flew out the door and the food went everywhere, causing a large mess and stopping a group of visitors in their tracks, a loaf of bread narrowly missing the head of one of them.

Hermione had never known Snape to lose his temper so much that he _threw_ things, but she supposed that it _could_ be expected. Walking resolutely towards the door, she stopped and pulled out her wand, pointing it at the mess and saying, "_Evanesco_." It vanished and the scared visitors proceeded hurriedly past the still-open door. Stealing herself and holding her wand at the ready to defend herself should there be more things around the bed that Snape could get his hands on, she walked into a room. There were two beds, both occupied. The one farthest from the door held a man who looked scared half to death and who was cowering beneath the sheets on his bed, staring wide-eyed at his roommate and seemingly afraid to tear his gaze away.

In the bed closest to the door was Snape. He sat upright, propped up against pillows, and was glaring at the poor man in the bed near the window. The man now looked like he was about to faint. Hermione stepped up to Snape's bed and looked down at the back of his head. His thick black hair hung to his shoulders still, though it looked a bit less greasy and Hermione wondered if the healers had used some spell to incapacitate him long enough to wash it. Trying to shove the thought of touching his disgusting hair away from her mind, she cleared her throat to catch his attention. It worked. He whirled around and practically lunged at her. But she was faster and her wand was at his throat in a second. "Healers aren't supposed to draw their wands on patients, especially in a threatening manner," he said through clenched teeth.

Hermione realized that her hair had fallen over her face and he had mistaken her for a hospital worker. Tossing her head to get hair to fall over her back and so that she could see, she watched as his face changed from anger to surprise, which then changed from bewilderment to annoyance. "They sent _you _to bring me back?" he asked, his voice filled with contempt.

"No one sent me," Hermione said, her voice steadier than she felt, "I was sent a letter informing me that you were able to leave."

"Sent a letter," he repeated, staring at the wall for a moment. Then his eyes flashed back to her face and he yelled, "You?!" And he growled, glaring at her with the most malicious look she'd ever seen on his face.

She stared right back into his eyes, and for a moment flashed back to the shrieking shack when she'd found that he was alive. Looking away for a moment, she muttered, "Well it wasn't my idea," quietly, but he heard her even though she hadn't meant for him to. He said nothing to this. She looked back at him then and held her ground, asking as politely as she could, "Well, shall we go then?"

He seemed to deflate a little and stopped glaring at her, averting his gaze. She realized he was panting slightly. "Sir?" she asked, concerned. He was still not fully recovered, she had to remind herself, and throwing trays of food and yelling at hospital staff must take a lot of his energy.

He let his breath out in a puff of air and swung his legs over the side of the bed, looking pleased to be leaving. He stood and Hermione stayed where she was. She put her wand away and waited, ready to reach out and help him as he swayed slightly on his feet. He walked to the door and she followed, hovering nearby and watching to be sure he was alright. Twice he stumbled but caught himself before she reached him and she had withdrawn her outstretched hands, not wanting to touch him if at all possible and knowing he felt the same way.

They made it out onto the muggle street and Hermione turned to Snape, who had stiffened suddenly. She guessed that it was the knowledge that she would _have_ to touch him for them to disapparate. He stood, waiting, and she reached out a hesitant hand and grabbed his arm lightly. Then she turned and they disapparated. They walked into the castle, Snape making cruel remarks about the work that had been done so far and asking which area Hermione had worked on, just, she knew, so that he could point out or make up flaws in her work. But Gryffindor tower looked fine from the ground and it was dark enough that they couldn't see much of the castle anyways, and he was unable to comment.

They walked to the teachers' lounge and entered, finding it empty. Glancing around the room, Snape looked at each of the doors before walking towards the one with the doe on it. Hermione had guessed it was his because Harry had said that Snape's patronus was a doe. She followed him to the door and he turned to glare at her. "I can undress myself and get into bed, thank you very much," he said coldly.

Hermione nodded. She hadn't expected to have to help him do either of those things. The door was still open and she pointed to her own door, next to the fireplace and carved with an otter. "I'll be in my rooms. Can you conjure a patronus?"

He narrowed his eyes and nodded to answer her question, but his gaze hadn't left her door.

"A- alright," she said haltingly, noticing that he was still staring at the door and feeling almost as unnerved as if he'd been staring at her face with such intensity. "Send one if you need me. I'll be back here half an hour before breakfast to wake you."

And she turned, intending to walk to her rooms, but was stopped when he sneered, "Is McGonagall counting you as a staff member because you're my _nurse_?"

"No," Hermione said, her voice steady and authoritive as it had been back in the hospital. "Actually, I'm here to help restore Hogwarts and _helping you_ is only a side job." She refused to say that she was nursing him back to health. It just sounded too strange.

He grunted and made to close the door in her face, but just then the headmistress walked into the teachers' lounge and he stopped. "Ah, Severus," she said with a smile, "I trust you made it back alright? How do you feel?"

He nodded, still scowling, and looked at Hermione. "I'll finally have a room to myself and no more healers poking and prodding me and bothering me to inquire about my health, thank you."

He fell silent and Hermione turned to the headmistress. "I have thought over it for some time," the older witch said, "and I have decided for sure what I will do this fall. Congratulations, Professor Granger."

Hermione glanced from the headmistress to the potions master. McGonagall looked happy enough to grab Hermione's hands and start spinning around in circles and dancing like a child. Snape's jaw had dropped and for the first time in her life Hermione saw him looking completely shocked and utterly speechless. She continued to look between the two, not sure what she felt at being called _Professor _by the headmistress of Hogwarts School. Then she turned to the witch. "Thank you, professor," she breathed, now happy as the headmistress was.

She glanced back at Snape and saw that his shocked expression had changed to one of utter contempt and he was glaring at her. This didn't seem to faze the headmistress at all, as she looked directly at Snape and said, "Well, Severus, now you've met the new Transfiguration teacher!"

He shot Hermione one last, especially hateful scowl and slammed the door. She hadn't realized it, but as soon as he was gone she felt free to smile and allow a girlish giggle to escape her lips. McGonagall was still smiling, beaming at her, and she looked just as happy and excited as Hermione was. Feeling a surge of affection for the headmistress, Hermione actually ran to the older witch and hugged her. She jumped back quickly, realizing what she had done and blushing. What was she thinking?! She was going to ruin her future and lose her job before it had even begun!

But when she looked up shyly at the older woman she found that the headmistress' eyes twinkled kindly down at her in a very motherly way. "Thank you," Hermione said again, though this time it was a whisper. The old woman nodded and they parted ways without another word, each entering her own rooms. Hermione sat down at her desk straight away and began writing to Harry and Ron about the day's events. She wrote an extra note that would be read as an addition to her reply to Ron and rolled up the parchment, sealing it and setting it on the desk to send the following morning.

When she was done with the letter she walked to the wall of books and selected one on advanced transfiguration. Then she sat down on the couch in front of the fireplace and read for the next thirty minutes, making mental notes about where she would start with her lessons in the fall. When she was done reading she returned the book to its shelf and went to her bedroom to change into her pajamas. She went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and her hair and glanced longingly at the bathtub but remembered the time and promised herself that she would rise early so she could enjoy a hot bath in the morning.

She waved her wand lazily at the orbs on the ceiling and they all went out, leaving the room in semidarkness, lit only by the dying remains of the fire. Hermione set her wand on the desk as she always did, climbed into bed, and pulled the curtains closed before relaxing and laying her head on the pillow with a sigh of contentment.

She rose early the next morning as she'd wanted to and had just dressed after a long, hot bath. Then she brushed her wet hair and pulled it back into a messy bun, planning on doing it and her makeup later; she still had an hour before she needed to go and wake Snape. She walked out and took her wand from her desk, tucking it in her robes as she always did and hiding the beaded bag away as well. Walking over to the fire, she sat down on the couch and curled up, pulling her knees up to her chest and watching the flames leaping over the firewood.

Crookshanks meowed and jumped onto the couch, walking over and curling up beside her. She turned and looked at him, smiling down at him and stroking his fur. The house elves had been very generous with his food, and while he wasn't getting plump his coat showed the extra attention. Hermione had the secret suspicion that Kreacher himself was fond of the cat and that he paid the orange tabby some kind of attention that the others denied him. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, thinking of how different Kreacher was since Harry had inherited him and started to show a bit of kindness to him. The cat jumped up suddenly and streaked under the bed, and she opened her eyes and looked around. A silver, wispy doe bounded around the room and then stood in front of the couch.

Hermione stared at it blankly for a moment, wondering where it came from and thinking of how beautiful it was before she remembered what she'd told Snape the night before. She jumped up and ran to the door, bursting into the empty teachers' lounge and hurrying across the room to Snape's door. She pulled out her wand, pointed it to the door, and said quickly, "_Alohomora!_"

The door now unlocked, Hermione wrenched it open and stepped into Snape's rooms. They were arranged just like hers, only with a mirror effect; she walked into her study and turned left to step up into the bedroom and he walked into his study and had to turn right. She searched the study and found it empty, so she entered the bedroom, which was shielded from the study much as hers was. No one was in the bed or the bedroom. Fear and a bit of dread filling her, she turned to face the bathroom door, which was closed. She walked up to it quickly, though was suddenly unsure of herself. Had she really seen a patronus or was it all in her head? Should she really break into the bathroom? What would she find there? If she had imagined it all she didn't want to think about how furious Snape would be at her entrance. He was in the loo! As if bursting into his personal quarters wasn't enough, she had to burst into the _loo_.

Feeling panicky, she tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. "P- Professor?" she asked timidly before opening it. "Professor?" she asked, louder this time. There was no answer. Then the familiar voice of the potions master came through the door. "Yes."

Hermione didn't know what to say. Had she been wrong? Had he been fine and not needed help? What would he think of her if she was wrong? But she didn't have to say anything because he snarled, "Well, what are you waiting for, get in here! You did say to send a patronus if I needed you."

Lost for words and caught completely off guard, Hermione had to take a moment to get a grip. Taking a deep breath and shaking her head at the sheer strangeness of the situation, she turned the knob and pushed the door open.

His bathroom was exactly like hers, with the bathtub farthest from the door. Snape's back was to her, and Hermione was thankful, knowing that her face had colored and she was probably very, very red at the moment. Before she could take a step towards the man—who was in the bathtub with his back to her—though, he asked, "Did you close the doors on your way in?"

"N- no," Hermione stammered, surprised by the question.

"I would prefer it if you did close them," he said. She turned, still extremely red in the face, and hurried back to the door that led to the still-empty teachers' lounge, closing it and returning to the bathroom, where she closed the door as well. Then she turned back to the professor. Only his torso was visible above the water and she found herself very thankful that she couldn't see the rest of him. His broad back was just as pale as his face and she realized that he was shaking, probably in fury either at her or because he needed help. It appeared to be the latter, because his voice gave away that he was struggling not to yell as he said, "It appears that I cannot lift myself from the bathtub."

Hermione felt her face redden further and said, "Oh," because she had no idea what else she could have said in this bizarre situation.

Pointing her wand to the towels folded on a rack on the wall, she said, "_Accio towel," _and one flew through the air and into her hand. Not really knowing what she should do next but desperate to be doing something other than standing there thinking about it, she asked, "Professor, does the charm _wingardium leviosa _work on people?"

"I believe so, if the caster is adept enough at performing magic." He answered brusquely.

She nodded though he couldn't see her and walked up behind him, saying, "Here," and setting the towel on the edge of the bathtub. He grabbed it and held it above the water in front of him. "I'm- I'm going to levitate you and you can . . . wrap yourself with the towel, and . . . yeah." She had never been so flustered in her life.

She pointed her wand at the professor's back and said, "_Wingardium leviosa," _and slowly but surely, he rose from the water. Hermione averted her eyes as soon as she knew that the charm was working and waited until a flash of dark green-the color of the towel—in the corner of her eye told her that Snape was covered. She looked back at him and moved her wand slowly, and he floated over above the bathroom floor. Hermione handed him another towel and put her wand back in her robes.

She tried in vain to focus on Snape's face, for his pale skin seemed to shine in the light from the orbs on the ceiling and she found upon just a quick, secret glance that he was actually in very good shape for a thirty-seven year-old who had just basically been killed and then come back to life again and who wasn't yet fully recovered. Averting her eyes from him completely, she said, "Sir, did you need me to help you with anything else, or . . ."

"Out," he said coldly and without the slightest trace of gratitude in his voice. She nodded without looking at him and turned on her heel, hurrying out the door and into his bedroom and then out into the teacher's lounge. She closed his door carefully behind her and heard the lock click almost immediately; he had waited for her to exit and then hurried to lock himself in again.

Hermione stared at the doe on the door for a moment before hurrying back into her own room. There was only half an hour until breakfast so she went straight to her bathroom to get herself cleaned up. Looking in the mirror, she was met with the face of a distraught image of herself. Her cheeks were blotchy red and white, as if they couldn't decide whether to be red and embarrassed or white and shocked. Her bangs had come loose out of the messy bun and hung, still wet, around her face. Her lips were white, as if from strain, and her robes were askew from her wild run to Snape's rooms after she'd seen the patronus.

Straightening her robes, she brushed her hair again and tied it up in a firmer bun, using hair pins to prevent it from coming loose again. It took a bit longer to do her makeup by hand and without magic, but she didn't mind. Anything to keep her mind off of what had just happened was welcome. When she had finished getting ready, she remembered the letter for Harry and Ron and glanced at the clock on the wall. She had just enough time to go to the owlery and then come back to escort Snape to the Great Hall for breakfast. Picking up the letter, she looked down at the wax seal and promised herself she would never speak to anyone about helping Snape that morning.

She walked out the door, thinking of how awkward it would be to see Snape again.

**Hello again, and thanks for sticking with my story so far! I hope you're enjoying reading it. If you have a spare moment, I'd love to hear what you thought of this chapter! I'm so thankful to all of you who have read/reviewed/favorited/followed so far; it means so much to me! Much love. ~Taelr**


	5. The First Day

Severus sat down on the couch in front of the fire with his back to the door. He glared at the flames. He had tried to escape, knowing that Granger would feel obligated as his "caretaker" to walk with him to the Great Hall and back again. Seeing as she was back in her room, he had tried to slip out of the teachers' lounge and make it to the Great Hall alone. But he'd barely been halfway across the room when the headmistress had entered and scolded him for "Disregarding Miss Granger's orders." Then she had all but shoved him back into his own room and closed his own door in his face. He had an inkling that she was waiting in the lounge for Granger to show to be sure he didn't try and misbehave again.

Severus hated this. He was being treated like a child, told where to go and when he could go, and not allowed to do anything on his own. He had made it into the bath, foreseeing that it would be inappropriate for Granger to try and help him there, and had enjoyed it before wasting half an hour trying to get himself back out. It was the most humiliating thing in the world for him to have to ask for help from anyone, especially the Gryffindor girl he had once mocked and insulted openly. She was having her revenge, and enjoying it, he was sure. No, that sounded twisted and terrible when thinking of that morning's incident. He didn't think she had enjoyed _that _at all, but she was probably back in her room, reveling in the fact that he had been forced to ask for her assistance, actually needed her help. She hated him and was only making his life harder.

And it was all her fault, all of this. He had woken in the shrieking shack and had been completely alone and known he was dying. Remembering that he had given his memories to Potter, he had closed his eyes and accepted the inevitable in peace; he could die, his work was done. But he hadn't died, he had only lost consciousness. He surely would've died before long and was only hovering between life and death when Granger decided to barge in and ruin it all. He had wanted it all to end, wanted let go of his past, wanted to die. But she had denied him that simple pleasure. Why? Surely she had done it to mock him, proving just how helpless he had been back in the shack and how powerful she was. She must know that he had wanted to die and been desperate to make him miserable. He had awakened again and found her there with him and been furious. Then he became aware by how morose and sorrowful she seemed at his supposed passing, and he was touched. And when she came to grips with the fact that he was alive, she seemed so shocked and deeply awed by his return from death that she had stared at him with wonder.

No woman had ever looked at him like that. For a few moments, he had managed to imagine that she was Lily, finding him there, having thought him dead and coming to mourn him. Lily had looked at him in many different ways in her life, but never the way the Granger girl had, as if she was so relieved and thrilled that he lived that nothing else mattered for a few moments. Lily had always said that his eyes changed when he was feeling particularly passionate about something. It had to be the good kind of passionate though, something deeply emotional and nothing negative. She had said that his eyes were always black, unless he became passionate with rage or fury, and then they would somehow get even blacker and colder and darker than before. Then she had said that when he was pleased or at peace or feeling a surge of positive emotions, his eyes would "Melt into the darkest, deepest, sweetest chocolate you ever saw."

Then he was brought back to the present. There was a knock on the door and he knew Granger was waiting for him outside. He had lost his appetite earlier that morning when he had to send her a patronus. She knocked again, a bit harder and louder, but he didn't move and continued to stay on the couch, staring into the flames. He heard the muffled word, "_Alohomora_," and heard the lock in the door click. She turned the knob slowly and opened the door just a crack, not looking in. "Professor?" she asked.

Still, he didn't move. She opened the door a bit more and peered inside hesitantly. "What?" he snapped, though he knew exactly why she was there.

It was a moment before she answered and he found a great satisfaction in the idea that he had caught her off guard and she didn't know what to say. "Um, b- breakfast in the Great Hall?" she asked haltingly.

He grunted and continued to glare at the fire, wishing he was glaring at her until she cowered before him, but not wanting to turn around. "Sir?" Her voice was a bit firmer now. And then she found the authority she'd had in the hospital the night before and said calmly, "I will escort you to breakfast or bring your food here and you will not leave. Which way do you prefer?"

Letting his breath out in a puff in annoyance, he stood up slowly and turned to her, his glare even more terrible than before. But to his surprise, she didn't wilt beneath his unyielding gaze. He watched as she actually opened the door wider for him to go out before her. Growling, he walked past her through the doorway, making sure to let his shoulder shove her rather harshly against the doorframe on his way out. He hated the contact and touching her at all made his stomach turn in disgust, but it was immensely satisfying to see her hit the doorframe and stumble to close the door.

When she turned around, he expected her to be hurt or furious, or both. Instead, she looked up into his face with the most understanding light in her eyes that another human being had ever given him. He was taken aback by the clear, completely unashamed way that her eyes stated simply how much she wanted to help him and she pitied him and was concerned rather than angry or upset. She definitely wasn't proud or happy with his being infirmed. And she seemed utterly unperturbed by his actions, cruel as they were. Even taking into account that he was only acting a bit meaner than usual and that she had grown up going to school and taking his remarks and comments with strong silence most of the time, she was awfully brave to be able to face him like this after he had almost attacked her the night before, and after she had had to help him get out of his bath that morning, and after he had just shoved her into a hard doorframe and was still glaring at her.

He walked to the main entrance to the lounge and stepped out into the corridor in the dungeon, Granger hovering beside him, looking as she had the night before, though her attempts to hide the fact that she was on edge and waiting for him to stumble were more subtly disguised now. Refusing to give in though his side was already aching from the short distance they had covered, he looked straight ahead and focused on the stairs a few yards away that would take them up to the Great Hall.

Only a few moments later he was panting, gasping for breath and leaning heavily against the stone wall on the side of the spiraling staircase as he slowly made progress, taking one step at a time and only one about every three minutes. "Sir," Granger said, looking concerned and worried.

"No," he said harshly between deep breaths, shoving her outstretched arm away. He would not lean on her and accept her help, no matter how innocent and kind she looked trying to offer it.

"Sir," she said again, this time a bit more urgently. Still he refused to lean on her arm.

"No," he said firmly.

He took another step upwards and felt his knee buckle beneath him. Time seemed to slow down and he knew he was going to twist in the air and tumble back down the cold stone steps. Fear actually gripped him for a split-second before something strong caught his arm and steadied him. Surprised, he looked down into the face of the young woman who had once been his student and was now his colleague. He tried to wrench his arm out of her grasp but she was stronger than she looked and held him firmly. The expression on her face said that he was not taking another step without assistance. Thoroughly annoyed and completely furious, he succeeded in ripping his arm away from her. But before she could glare at him and grab ahold of him again he placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned heavily against her. If she wanted to help so badly then the least he could do was make her job a bit more difficult than was necessary.

He half expected her to at least sigh at his weight resting heavily on her shoulder, but she only gave him an expectant look that told him she was ready to move on up the stairs whenever he was. He sighed inwardly, wondering when her patience would finally wear out and he could get his enjoyment out of bothering her the way that he was, and stepped up, still leaning heavily on her. Though he expected her to crumple beneath his weight or look upset or like she was uncomfortable or in pain any moment, she did not. This only increased his annoyance and by the time they made it to the Great Hall he was positively furious with her once more. Then again he wasn't sure there was a time since she'd saved him that he hadn't been positively furious with her.

They made it to the table in the Great Hall only a few moments late, and McGonagall looked pleased to see that he was finally accepting Granger's help. He made to sit down, taking his hand off of her shoulder, and realized just how much he had been leaning on her when his knees buckled beneath him. Granger was faster than gravity was, though, and had only just enough time to wrap her arms hastily around one of his and pull him back to his feet, where he knew he would have swayed had she not been supporting him. She walked him to his chair and eased him down into his seat before she herself sat down beside him. Then she turned her attention to the conversation at the table and moments later to the food that appeared shortly after, giving no sign of having experienced the slightest bit of pain or energy loss during the walk from the teachers' quarters.

The way back down to the dungeon was just as arduous as the way up. When they reached the teachers' lounge, Severus was panting a bit and he grabbed the handle of his door, supporting himself with it and turning to face Granger, who was standing nearby and allowed him to release her shoulder. He realized she was breathing rather hard and was red in the face with beads of sweat on her forehead. She was breathing just as hard as he had been while trying to face the stairs on the way up to breakfast without assistance. Her face showed signs of being in pain and exhausted from bearing his weight, but still no complaint left her lips. He watched as she reached into her robes and pulled out a small beaded bag, which she stuck her entire hand into, though it should've been too large to fit all of the way up to her wrist. She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed the sweat from her face before folding it and returning it to the bag. Then she looked up at him and seemed surprised that he was still there.

Severus himself was unsure why he hadn't just left her standing there without so much as a thank you. Despite the fact that she was still breathing more rapidly than usual and her chest still heaved, she managed to give him a small smile. "Anything else you need, Sir?"

Finding a savage pleasure in the idea of forcing her to work even when she had already spent her energy on him, but unable to quickly think of some errand to send her on, he shook his head. Then he turned and walked into his rooms without another word, closing the door behind him.

For the first time since he had returned from Saint Mungo's, he was able to sit and do something that calmed his nerves; turn carefully through the pages of an ancient potions book and find the page that held a single potion he'd never before completed successfully. In the past he had been asked to make potions for the Ministry of Magic and for Saint Mungo's and other important magical corporations. But he had never had to brew this potion. He knew how to brew the strongest love potion in the world, _Amortentia_, and he could brew _Felix Felicis, _also known as liquid luck. This potion, however, had always eluded him. He had tried to brew it, once, long ago, failing to understand then the rarity of several of the necessary ingredients. He had failed to brew it correctly and only gotten one other chance in his lifetime. He had seized the chance with vigor but was interrupted midway into the potion brewing and forced to leave it to waste away while he dealt with more important things. Now he was held back from creating it by the lack of ingredients.

Ingredients were precious. None of his younger students understood that, and very few of those who passed their OWLs and went on to take his advanced potions class managed it either. It seemed very rare to find someone, anyone, who understood how precious potions were and how far more important their ingredients were. All of the written accounts of potion making and instructions on how to brew potions were important as well. Potions were excellent things, but they weren't of any use if they were nonexistent. You had to have the ingredients and the knowledge of how to brew the potion before you could actually bring it into existence.

Severus sat at his desk for hours, lost in thought over the potion whose perfect way of creation had always eluded him. He was brought from his reverie only by the light knock on his door that came at last to force him to remember that Granger was taking care of him and he actually needed her at times. With that _lovely_ thought, he turned and glared at the door. The knock this time was sharper. "Professor?" her muffled voice came through the door.

"What is it now, Granger?" he snapped loudly enough for her to hear.

She said something, but didn't say it loud enough because he couldn't make out a word of it. Growling, he said loudly, "Just open the door and tell me."

He heard her use a spell to unlock the door and then her face could be seen as she opened the door just wide enough for her to see in. "Professor?"

"What?!" he was tired of her being so polite after all of his cruelty. When would she break and react _the_ _proper_ way?

"I- I brought you some lunch from the kitchens because I didn't know whether you'd want to walk all of the way up to the Great Hall again." her young face was still radiating concern and kindness.

That, and her reference to his weakness by saying she thought he might not want to make the great journey to the Great Hall again, was all it took and he himself snapped. He stood from the desk very quickly, careful to place his hands on it and steadying himself fast enough so that Granger missed it. "It so happens that I do want to walk to Great Hall for lunch, Miss Granger," he pronounced her name with so much scorn in his voice that he actually saw her flinch for once in response to his unkindness. Satisfied, he let go of the desk and walked carefully to the door, opening it and finding a tray of still-steaming food balanced on her hand. Infuriated by the sight of the tray—just another sign of his weakness and the necessity of having Granger take care of him—he flung up his arm as he walked past and the tray—along with the food it held—flew through the air and caused a horrendous mess in the teachers' lounge, and all over Granger.

Severus walked quickly and resolutely through the lounge, not pausing to look back on what the simple act of raising his arm had done. He held his head high and walked as he used to before the snake hurt him, and with a sudden feeling of strength pulsing through him, he left the teachers' lounge and made it all of the way to the stairs before he realized that he wasn't even panting yet. He stopped and a smirk spread across his usually cold face. He was not as weak as he had thought. Surely the phoenix tears had finally finished their job now? (He was positive that phoenix tears had been used to heal his wounds, though the healers had insisted that they had used none and he had asked McGonagall, who denied the use of them as well) Pleased with himself, he lifted a foot to take on the staircase, which, once again, seemed familiar and easy to handle, unlike that morning.

Just then Granger walked around the corner and stopped at the opposite end of the corridor from him. She stared at him for a moment and then ran forward, stopping beside him. He glared at her expectantly. Why had she run? Did she think him so weak that he wouldn't be able to make it this far? With annoyance, he realized that earlier he had indeed required her assistance only shortly after reaching this point and would be, by now, panting, had he still been in the shape he was in that morning. Granger looked him over, seeming to take her time and carefully evaluate his health.

"You're not breathing hard or sweating," she said breathlessly. Then a smile split her face. A smile! Severus stared at her in disbelief. "You're getting better! You're better! You can make it this far without missing a beat!" she was nearly shouting now, looking extremely happy.

She grinned at him girlishly, and then glanced to the stairs and back as if asking if he was ready to proceed. He was confused. Then his confusion changed to amazement. He had yelled at her. He had hurt her. He had abused her help. He had been unkind and never thanked her once for all of the help she'd given. And he had just flung the tray of food she delivered to him and made a mess that she had undoubtedly cleaned up herself, not to mention dirtying her robes, which were now clean. And yet still, she stood before him, breathless and excited for him because he was making progress in his recovery. Looking at her now, he never would have guessed, had he not known, that he had ever mistreated her.

He was talented with controlling his emotions. He was cold. And hard. And cruel. People could make him happy, people could make him very angry, and he would usually keep a straight, calm face. He could be in a great amount of pain and still breath lightly, still keep a stony expression, still hold his complaints and moans of discomfort inside. But that had come of years and years of being mistreated himself, until he learned to bottle all reaction and emotion inside of himself and keep it there. No one else could see it, because whenever he had dared to show it in his past, it had brought him nothing but trouble. But Granger was a different story. She didn't have years of experience keeping her emotions inside. In fact, she was positively terrible at it in the past; any emotion inside of her had been quite obvious, especially to perceptive people like Severus. And yet this week, when she had cared for him, her emotions had been well kept under control. Sometimes she seemed close to losing that control, but the only time she had slipped was when they were in the bathroom that morning and she had been embarrassed by the situation. He hadn't seen her face, but had practically felt the heat emanating from it as she blushed a deep red in her shock at the circumstances.

Holding her emotions inside must be a terribly difficult thing for her, as she'd never really done it before. Or perhaps questing with Potter had forced her to keep questions or complaints inside her own head instead of voicing them. Perhaps questing _had_, indeed, actually taught her something valuable. Severus realized that he and Granger had been climbing the stairs for quite some time as he came from his thoughts and they entered the entrance hall before making it into the Great Hall, where not even all of the witches and wizards were at the table.

For the first time, he wondered if Granger had been out of her room from the time they got back from breakfast to the time she had come to him with his lunch. Had she been working on repairs to the school even after much of her energy was spent on helping him to breakfast and back? In the midst of their meal, he angled his position in his seat so that he could have been turning to look at the headmistress while she spoke. He was, however, sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye at the young woman beside him. Her face was bright and she was smiling, but she did show signs of strain. She looked a bit stressed as well. Severus turned back to his food and focused on it, not wanting to risk looking at Granger any longer. He didn't much like to look at her, either.

Not to say anything bad about her appearance; the girl's tremendous buck teeth from her childhood had receded to become straight and normal-sized, her once-bushy hair was now a mess of brown, well-defined curls, and her face had changed as she grew up. She wasn't the girl he had once insulted, he was coming to realize. She was different in so many ways, and yet still so much the same. Had the war done this to her? Or was it just the process of growing up that had changed her so?

Severus leaned away from his empty plate and remembered with a scowl how the headmistress had shared Granger's enthusiasm when she saw Severus walking without assistance and looking much better than before. Still scowling, he allowed his thoughts to wander back to the potion he had dwelled on earlier. He was so deeply lost in his thoughts that he turned and only looked half as threatening and malicious as usual when Granger said, "Sir?"

He looked at her inquiringly.

"I asked if you were ready to return to your room," she said slowly, watching his face for signs of comprehension on his part.

He nodded tersely, standing without a word and walking towards the door of the Great Hall. He noticed that when Granger followed him now she was walking differently; before she had hovered nearby, ready to catch him should he stumble, and now she was unafraid to let him walk on his own. They made it back to the teachers' lounge without incident. As soon as they made it inside, Granger walked right to her room, not even making sure he entered his own. Satisfied, he walked right back out of the lounge. He walked to the seventh floor, to the certain hall where the room of requirement was hidden. He paced, concentrating on what he wanted. When he looked up, a door had appeared in the wall.

He stepped inside and found himself surrounded by piles of students' lost treasures. Stored and hidden away, they were all heaped together and made quite a sight. Things were burned and singed, sometimes quite badly, in most places. Severus drew his wand and said, "_Accio_ _potions_ _book_."

He waited a moment, wondering if perhaps the fire that had devastated the room had in fact devoured what it was that he sought. But then, rising above the array of items and floating to him, was what he wanted. He took the book from the air and was pleased to find it undamaged. The outside was new, almost without wear. But he opened the first page and found the ragged, worn old pages that he was so familiar with though he hadn't seen them in years. Closing the book carefully, he tucked both it and his wand back in his robes before leaving the room of requirement and returning to his own room.

He sat down at his desk and began to read. Page by page, he was reunited with the old, often incorrect potions written by the author, and then greeted by his own writing, correcting the mistakes and even writing down spells he had created. He read through it once and closed the book, reopening the first page and beginning again. This was his past, and many of the things written in it were spells and potions he still used to this day.

There was a knock on the door. Wondering why Granger couldn't just leave him alone, he stood and walked to it. He opened it quickly and only just a bit. Peering around it, he said, "What?"

The woman before him frowned up into his face and said, "Severus, I wouldn't expect you to treat your headmistress in such a fashion," before shoving the door open the rest of the way. Severus was shocked; it wasn't Granger, it was McGonagall.

"This," she said, holding out an envelope, "just arrived for you. I took it upon myself to deliver it." She began to turn away but stopped and looked back. He looked up at her, waiting. "Severus," she said at last, "I know that Miss Granger would be your last choice of caretaker, but please, _try_ and appreciate what she does for you? At least make an effort to be a bit kinder. I'm sure you were under the impression that I was her just a moment ago, were you not? You thought she was coming to bother you yet again." and with that, she walked to the fireplace in the teachers' lounge and stood, looking into the flames. Without turning around she said, "I would like to know why you appeared at lunch though I met her in the corridor outside bringing your lunch to you."

Severus opened his mouth but she said quietly, "You may come to my office and we shall discuss some things."

And she left.

Infuriated that Granger had caused him detention of sorts, he stalked after the headmistress, shooting a particularly vicious glare at the door beside the fireplace with the otter carved gracefully into its front. He walked to the headmistress' office and felt a pang of regret when he saw that everything was exactly as it had been under Dumbledore's time as headmaster. Then he sat down in the chair where so many students had been spoken to and was questioned and then scolded like a child.

When it was over he walked back to his quarters. Halfway there he met a lanky boy with disheveled red hair and freckles. He looked just as unhappy to meet the potions master as Severus was to see him. "Hermione?" he asked hopefully, looking behind Severus like a child peering around something they are hiding behind.

"Wait here. I will send Miss Granger your way," Severus said without stopping to chat. He walked on. When he reached the teachers' lounge he walked to Granger's door and knocked loudly.

The young woman who opened the door looked surprised and concerned when she saw him. "Sir?" she asked.

He sneered at her. "No, I don't need your help. Weasley's waiting in the corridor for you." Then he turned and walked to his room, closing the door loudly behind him. He didn't want to hear about her love for the idiot boy. He didn't want to see it or have anything to do with it. His only dealing with love had left him broken and weak; vulnerable. He hated being any of those. Besides, they were young. Granted, he had been young when he came to love Lily, but his had been true love that would last. The two young people who were by now probably embracing and kissing passionately in the corridor beyond the lounge knew nothing of what true love was, and they would most likely split before long.

For the first time he remembered the letter McGonagall had delivered to him. He sat down at his desk and opened the envelope, unfolding the parchment and reading quickly. Then he cast aside the long-overdue letter of condolences and congratulations from the Malfoy family, who seemed extremely happy to know that they were now not the only death eaters still alive and free after Voldemort's death.

He sat down to read over the pages of potions in his ancient text once more and was able to lose himself and forget the world again.

**So now you've seen things from Severus' point of view. The next few chapters will me 99% from Hermione's perspective but after that I won't be dedicating whole chapters to a single point of view and it will change between Severus and Hermione. If you have a spare second I would be thrilled to hear what you thought of this chapter and whether or not you liked seeing thing from a different perspective! Thanks again to all of you! I love you all. ~Taelr**


	6. The Dark Mark

Hermione sat down on the edge of her bed. She had experienced a tiresome but acceptable day. The beginning had been terrible, yes, but once Snape had regained some of his strength and Ron had showed up things had gotten much better. Ron and Harry were leaving for Bulgaria that evening because of some sort of delay with the Ministry of Magic, and Ron had come to say goodbye once more before he left.

Ron had said that he was starting to get jealous of "That old bat of the dungeons," because Hermione was with him so much. Hermione had managed a hoarse laugh and a teasing, "You, jealous of Snape?" but had felt a strange twinge of guilt when he said it. Was the future she had chosen for herself pulling her away from Ron? She had then said, more to reassure herself that him, "Oh, don't be ridiculous," and then pulled him into a deep kiss to seal her words.

And then all had been well and she'd forgotten anything about ever doubting her and Ron's relationship. She was sure it would survive this point in their lives, when they were sort of going their separate ways to begin their new lives after the war. Her job at Hogwarts wasn't definitive and she could leave at the end of the school year if she wanted. Ron, she was sure, would be an auror the rest of his life. But that wasn't all _that_ bad. It left her with time for herself and plenty of freedom to pursue the career of her choice. She had questioned whether it would be difficult to live apart from Ron for the majority of her time if they did indeed get married, but now that was far from her mind.

She decided that it wasn't yet late enough to go to bed and took a bath instead. She soaked in the water, letting her thoughts settle to a peaceful nothingness and focusing on the pleasure of the hot, bubbling liquid embracing her and the wisps of steam rising upwards. The steam filled the room and floated in swirling patterns that crossed the ceiling and painted the air with a silver glow. Hermione made a game of finding recognizable shapes in the patterns around her and thought she caught the fleeting image of a doe bounding through the spiraling steam above her. And then the doe jumped from the rest of the steam, parting away from it and proving itself to be something different. Hermione gazed at it, transfixed; her imagination was running away with her for sure. Perhaps she was falling asleep in the bathtub?

Then the doe landed on the floor and walked over to the edge of the bathtub. It looked at her expectantly and turned and began walking through the closed door. With one last leap, it vanished. Realizing that the strange animal was actually not steam from her bath, Hermione came back to her senses and got out of the tub, drying herself and hurriedly pulling on her clothes before running out to her bedroom, where the doe stood waiting. She snatched her wand from the desk in the study and followed the doe out of her door and through the teachers' quarters and to Snape's door. She knocked hesitantly, remembering without difficulty the last two times she had knocked on this door and what had followed. "Professor?" When no answer came, she unlocked the door and stepped inside much quicker than she had that morning she looked around the room.

The fireplace had begun to die and dark shadows filled most of the professor's quarters. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary in the study, she stepped up into the bedroom and glanced around. It was even darker here. Rather uncomfortable with the bad light, she pointed her wand at the fire and it roared to life in the study. Then she pointed to the floating orbs on the ceiling and they glowed the honey-color that those in her bedroom did. Searching the bedroom with a few quick glances, she determined that Snape wasn't there. Turning with a mixture of dread and annoyance, she walked to the bathroom. The door was open and it was completely empty. But where was he? It didn't make sense that he would call her with a patronus if he didn't need help. And the doe had led her to his door and disappeared for good only after she had knocked the first time. Had she perhaps missed him somewhere? That would mean he had to be hurt very badly or unconscious because he hadn't replied when she entered.

She walked back through the bedroom, looking around again but sure that she had seen nothing before and nothing had changed since. The study had been filled with shadows when she looked through it, so she stepped back down and looked around the newly-lit room with careful eyes. She jumped and spun around when a shadowy place in the far corner let out a quiet moan. Realizing that it was in fact the professor, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, she rushed forward and knelt beside him. "Sir, what happened?"

She gently rolled him onto his back and stared down into his face, which looked even more pale and sallow than usual. He didn't answer, but opened his eyes and looked at her. They were bloodshot and he looked terrible. Hermione stood and used the same levitating charm she had in the shrieking shack, and the professor rose from the ground. She floated him to his bed and let him down carefully on the blankets, his head resting on the pillow. He was still looking at her, but looked either too weak or in too much pain to speak. Not knowing what to do, Hermione said, "Kreacher!"

The house elf appeared in Snape's room with a _crack. _"Go and get McGonagall," she said quietly. "Bring her hear. Please, Kreacher, hurry! Go!" and he disappeared a quickly as he'd come and with the same noise.

Turning back to the bed, Hermione leaned over the professor. "Please, I can't help you if I don't know what's happened and what's wrong."

He merely blinked once and then continued to stare. He was lying quite still on the bed, and then, with an obvious amount of effort, he turned his left arm over so that his hand was laying palm-up and his underarm was facing upwards. Hermione stared at his arm and then looked back to his face. Moving his arm was the only clue he seemed able to give her at the moment, so she reached down and began carefully unbuttoning his sleeve. When that was done she began to draw it back gently. For some odd reason, she found herself remembering that the dark mark was on his left arm and wondering if it was still there after the dark lord's death.

Finally, getting tired of fighting his sleeve, she drew her wand and muttered a simple spell that severed the fabric. She pulled it away from his forearm and stared. His dark mark was indeed still there, but it looked much different than it had during Voldemort's life. Then it had been black, the sign of a snake and a skull. Now it was the same sign, but it was grey in color and the flesh around it was inflamed.

The door opened and the headmistress hurried inside. She came to the bedside and looked from Snape to Hermione. Hermione pointed to his arm and said, "I think it's the dark mark. Something's happening with it and its hurting him."

The older witch nodded gravely and looked at Snape's face. She studied him for a moment and said, "Well, as it is obvious he has not spoken to you of what is wrong, I wonder if you," she looked back at him from Hermione, "could nod if I ask questions or shake your head?"

He simply stared at her. "Does it hurt more than your arm?" the headmistress asked.

He jerked his chin in a weak imitation of a nod.

"Everywhere?"

He nodded again.

"Severe pain?"

Again, a nod.

"Has it drained your energy and made you weak?"

He nodded once more.

"This could be very serious," McGonagall said when she was finished with her inquiry. "I will contact Kingsley and have him go to Azkaban to examine the death eaters there. Much of the diagnosis for this," she waved a hand at his arm, "depends on whether or not the others who bear the dark mark are being affected the same way." She turned to Hermione. "I trust you know as much as Madam Pomfrey when it comes to most medical ailments. You know of some kind of soothing treatment, I am sure?"

Hermione nodded. She followed the headmistress out into the teachers' lounge and said quietly, without closing the door behind her, "Professor, do you think phoenix tears would . . .?"

The headmistress frowned. "I am not sure," she said at last. "Phoenix tears take care of most—if not almost all—injuries, but this is the work of dark magic, and I fear that perhaps here, phoenix tears will be unable to aid in Severus' recovery. You may try them, though, if you so desire. They are yours to use, remember. I ask that you use them wisely, however. Please try not to waste them on things that cannot be helped or are of too little importance." And she turned and walked towards the door to the corridor outside. She stopped, though, and asked, "Miss Granger, I know you will need to hurry, but how did you know Severus was in trouble if you were not there when he collapsed? And are you alright? Your robes are lopsided and slightly damp in places, your hair is sopping wet and still dripping water by the looks of it, you are wearing no makeup, and you don't appear to have made yourself presentable in your haste.

Hermione blushed. "I told the Professor to send a patronus if he needed me. And I was in the bath when the patronus came into my quarters. I got out and was dressed and grabbed my wand before getting to the professor as soon as possible. I never even looked in the mirror."

The headmistress nodded, and a smile played across her lips. "I see," she said. "It appears that you are the best person I could have asked to look after Severus. Albus was right to want you to take the job of Severus' nurse; you are more than willing to help him in any way, as you proved before and after breakfast this morning. And you are so kind and patient and concerned; it's amazing. No one in their right mind could act in such a way towards Severus before now. And you do it because you care." Noticing the look of indifference and slight annoyance at her last comment that had crossed Hermione's face, the headmistress added, "Yes, Miss Granger, whether you realize it or not, you do care about Professor Snape and what happens to him. That's nothing to be ashamed of, though. In fact, you should be proud. If you hadn't cared enough to go back to the shrieking shack he wouldn't be alive today."

She walked away and left, not hearing Hermione's whispered, "He wouldn't be _in_ _pain_ today, you mean."

Hermione hurried to her room and took her beaded bag from the desk in the study, returning to Snape's room as quickly as she could. She closed the door behind her when she entered and stepped up into the bedroom, sitting on the side of the bed and reaching into her bag, pulling out the phial of phoenix tears. She noticed that Snape's eyes widened slightly when she held the phial where he could see it and uncorked it carefully. He seemed to be able to identify what was inside the glass container at first glance and without a doubt.

Hermione tilted the phial over Snape's arm. She held her wand in her right hand and the phial in her left. She wasn't left handed but had the faintest suspicion that the dark mark would reject the phoenix tears and she might need to save the drops of precious liquid. She let one drop fall onto Snape's arm. He sucked in his breath with a _hiss_, as if in immense pain, and Hermione gasped when the dark mark did indeed reject the liquid, his skin producing steam where the tear had touched it and emitting a quiet _hiss_. "_Wingardium_ _Leviosa_," she said quickly, and the tear rose off of Snape's arm. She caught it in the phial and put the cork back where it belonged. Then she returned the Tears to her bag and looked at Snape. He was obviously in the same amount of pain as he had been when she left him to speak to McGonagall, but the momentary effects of the tear on his flesh seemed to have gone.

Biting her bottom lip and sending her most sincere apologies for causing him pain through her eyes, she reached into her small bag again, this time pulling out a different container. She unscrewed the lid and set it aside on the bed. Then she dipped two fingers into the container and when she drew them back they were coated in a thick, cool white cream. Snape watched as she set her wand down and leaned on her right hand, reaching out with her left, which had the soothing cream. As gently as possible, she set her fingers on his forearm and spread the cream across his inflamed skin. She covered the dark mark completely with it, dipping her fingers several more times when she found that the cream didn't cause Snape pain and seemed to be relieving his hurt. His skin was hot, far too warm to the touch and obviously inflamed and unwell. Hermione was amazed that the man she had always thought of as cold, suddenly being so warm. Of course, this was an ailment, not his personality. He would always be cold. She reached for the container again.

But this time it seemed to have been a delayed reaction between the cream and the dark mark, for she saw him flinch suddenly and then he sucked in a deep breath again and closed his eyes, his whole body tensing. Snape actually let out a low, deep whimper. Hermione shoved her hand in her bag and fumbled around until she found what she had searched for and then pulled a small handkerchief from it. She grabbed her wand. "_Engorgio!" _and the square of fabric tripled in size. She hastily used another charm to moisten it and then wiped the cream from Snape's arm as quickly and gently as she could.

Snape relaxed and opened his eyes to look at her again as soon as the last of the cream was removed from his now flaming red arm. Hermione felt tears stinging her eyes. How was she supposed to help him when the only way she could find a solution would be to see what hurt him? "I'm sorry," she said, careful not to let the extra liquid in her eyes spill over. No, she would not cry, especially now, when _he_ was the one in pain and she was just frustrated. He could most definitely see the tears in her eyes, but he did not acknowledge them as she wished he would. For the first time she actually found herself wishing the potions master was strong enough to snarl some cruel remark and glare at her. "I'm sorry," she said again. She cleaned the rag, wondering why her mind hadn't moved faster and she hadn't remembered the simple incantation needed to vanish any substance. She could have relieved the professor of the cream much faster had she not been so flustered by the pain he was experiencing.

He watched her as she stood and ran out of his quarters, again closing his door behind her. She ran down the corridor, through halls and up staircases, remembering to skip the missing step on a certain one. She finally made it to the hospital wing, which had remained undamaged by the war. She ran to Madam Pomfrey's store of potions and healing items and found the potion she wanted, though she had feared her own success at finding it; what if Snape drank it and his body reacted to it as it had the other remedies for his ailment? How would she remove it from him then?

Worrying, she ran back down to the dungeon and was back at Snape's bedside more quickly than she would have thought possible in any other situation. Taking a deep breath, she uncorked the bottle she was holding. It was a healing potion, meant to be drunk by one who was experiencing pain in multiple places, most often interior places, and to sooth those places. Tipping the bottle slightly, Hermione brought it to Snape's lips. She let only a bit slide past his lips and then watched as he struggled to swallow. When he had, she grabbed her wand, squeezing it so hard her knuckles hurt as she waited to see whether or not he would react.

All at once, Snape was coughing and spluttering, spitting and looking like he was finding it very hard to breathe. Not knowing what she could do to stop what was happening, Hermione covered her mouth with her hands and watched in horror. Then Snape coughed again. He retched. And the last two actions were repeated over and again until he appeared to have gotten the potion out of his system for good. He had sat up as he was coughing and retching and now fell back on his pillow, red in the face and covered in beads of sweat. Hermione cleaned the mess with a wave of her wand and dabbed his face with a damp cloth, not holding back her tears anymore. They fell freely from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She wiped them on her sleeve often, but not often enough, as several fell onto Snape's robes while she leaned over him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," she said over and over again through her tears as she bathed his face with the cool cloth.

She gave him some water and held the cup to his lips as he was too weak to do it himself. He drank and looked at the cup as if asking for more. Hermione refilled it and let him drink until he left the cup half-full and stopped drinking. She set the cup on his bedside table and sat back on the very edge of the bed, watching his face. They had gone up to dinner earlier, and he had walked the whole way and back just as he would have a year before when he was perfectly healthy. No one could possibly have foreseen that he would collapse and be too weak even to lift a glass of water to his lips only hours later. Hermione glanced at the dark mark. It looked dark grey, as it had been earlier when she first saw it. It hadn't changed at all since then, though the skin around it had grown a more violent shade of red and Snape seemed to be in more pain than before.

Hermione didn't dare leave him and go back to her room for the night. She would have to stay and be there to give him water and watch over him throughout the night. Who knew when he might suddenly seize up with pain and need her assistance? She stood and took the chair from behind his desk in the study, taking it back to the bedside. Then an idea formed in her mind. If Snape was able to drink water without being pained by some freak reaction, then could it help his burning flesh? Hermione took a cloth from her bag and wetted it, then dabbed his arm and watched for a reaction. Nothing happened besides Snape's sigh of relief as the cold moisture took away his pain. Hermione dabbed cold water on his entire forearm, but then stopped because the rest of him was covered in his clothes. She dabbed water on the palm of his upturned hand and he seemed relieved by that. Wondering if he was experiencing a painful burning sensation all over his body, she gently turned his arm over and soothed the back of his forearm as well as the back of his hand and his fingers, and he seemed more relieved.

Hermione set the cloth on the bedside table and offered Snape the cup of water. He didn't want to drink so she set it back down and leaned back in her chair. She raised her wand to the orbs on the ceiling and dimmed the lights in the bedroom so Snape could sleep, causing the ones in the bathroom and the study to go out and making sure that the fire had begun to die. All she remembered after that was sitting down in the chair again, glancing at the clock and seeing that it was midnight, and then looked at Snape, who had closed his eyes and was completely still besides the slight rising and falling of his chest as he slept. Then she herself must had drifted off as well, because the next time she opened her eyes it was to the sound of Snape's door being opened.

Hermione sat up, blinking her eyes and gazing with bleary vision at the clock on the wall. It was now three in the morning. She looked at Snape, who was still sleeping. The headmistress stepped into the bedroom and looked pleased to see Hermione still at Snape's side. "I didn't think you would leave," she said with a grim smile. "I do believe it will be necessary for someone to stay here with him until we can figure out what's really wrong. Albus has even put in a word about this, but of course it's up to you whether you continue to nurse him or not." She noticed the cup of water and the cloth on the table and looked inquiringly at Hermione, who then relayed her series of experiments with solutions to Snape's ailment, holding back more tears as she spoke of her failure. "But he can drink water and I can use it to sooth him without causing him any pain," she finished at last.

The headmistress looked at Snape, regarding him in silence for a moment. Then she said, "Miss Granger, am I right to believe that you are quite willing to stay here and care for Severus?"

Hermione nodded.

"And am I correct in assuming that you would be willing to help him and relieve him of his pain, even if that would mean placing yourself in an awkward situation as a result of these circumstances?"

Hermione nodded without hesitation; she was Snape's caretaker and it was her job to help him no matter the cost to herself.

The headmistress then nodded and walked around Snape's bed so that she was standing on the opposite side than Hermione was sitting on. "Please assist me in removing his shirtwaist and shirt so that you can treat his skin with cool water as you did his arm."

Forcing herself into a mechanical, professional mode, Hermione was able to keep from blushing, and she stood and helped to do what McGonagall had asked.

Snape woke and opened his eyes as soon as they touched him, and he appeared, by the looks in his eyes, to be quite humiliated that he could do nothing about the two women undressing his torso. Hermione tried to keep her eyes on her hands, but they strayed up to meet his gaze more than once. He seemed to understand that this had not been her idea, and turned his glare to the headmistress, who glared right back and said with a scolding tone, "Severus, we're only trying to help. This will make you feel much better, I'm sure," just as they finished removing his clothes.

His whole body was rigid. It was obvious he liked being clothed much better than not, even if he was still wearing his dark trousers. Hermione watched in dismay as the headmistress turned to leave. "It is up to you now, Miss Granger. I must return to my office. Unless I am quite mistaken, Kingsley has just flooed in through my fireplace and is awaiting my arrival."

She was gone before Hermione could complain that this was outrageous. She drew her wand and wetted the cloth again, focusing too hard on the fabric as she did so. She did not want to have to look at the professor's body. It just seemed wrong in so many ways. She knew that it was not wrong, not as she was doing it. She was helping him, and as McGonagall had said, this situation had been forced by the unusual circumstances. Hermione sighed inwardly as she turned to face Snape with the cloth in her hand. There was no way she was going to be able to sooth his hurts and care for him without looking directly at his chest and stomach. She had caught a fleeting glimpse of them that morning, but had been just as displeased to look as she was now.

She reached out and brought the cloth down gently on the elbow of his left arm. She would start where she had left off. When she had finished his left arm, she dabbed his shoulder and then his collar bone before moving on to his right arm, trying to postpone the moment when she had to look at the rest of him. She would occasionally use her wand to wet the cloth again, and dread filled her when she realized she had just finished doing his right arm. She reached up and began dabbing his chest, starting on the left side and working to his right. As she had noticed earlier, he was in excellent shape for a man of thirty-seven, almost thirty-eight. And his skin wasn't yellow and sallow, it was just very pale and the lights in the rest of the school seemed to throw a strange coloring over it that was dishonest. He was so pale that Hermione found herself fascinated.

Just like his arm had been, the rest of him was extremely hot to the touch as well. She found it disconcerting that his skin should be so red around the dark mark and so pale on his stomach, yet still the exact same temperature in both places. All of the time she was bathing his burning skin, he was closing his eyes, and it was obvious that he was being relieved of his pain and soothed. When she finished she set the rag back on the bedside table once again and saw that he had opened his eyes. She offered the cup of water and he drank several cups before refusing any more.

McGonagall had brightened the lights a bit when she entered, and Hermione pointed her wand at them and glanced at Snape, who was already asleep again, before deciding to put them out completely. Darkness enveloped the room and Hermione leaned back in her chair, letting sleep overtake her with ease and slipping away from the fears and worries of the present.

**Hey everyone! Alright I know that the last chapter took a while, and I'm sorry. I just found Snape to be a bit more difficult to write about in some ways because Hermione, being a woman and being new to much of what she is experiencing, notices a lot of details and has a lot on her mind and is just girlish, while Severus is used to life at Hogwarts and won't be taking in every detail of his quarters because he's seen them so many times before. And of course, his emotions aren't quite as elaborate as Hermione's because he's not a teenage girl/young woman. Thanks for sticking with me though and here is chapter 6! I had some fun writing it and I hope you like it! This one is a bit shorter than the last and I apologize but the next update will be rather soon, I promise, and it should be interesting! Thanks for reading and don't forget that no matter how short or long, all of your reviews are appreciated and I would love any advice or ideas you have when it comes to the improvement of my story! Thanks again! ~Taelr**


	7. News From Azkaban

Hermione opened her eyes, blinking in the semidarkness that surrounded her. She rubbed her eyes, and it took a moment for her to register that she wasn't in her own room. Then the events of the night before came back to her. She managed to make out the shape of the clock on the wall in the darkness, but there wasn't enough light for her to see where the hands were. Sighing quietly, she fumbled in her robes and found her wand. She pointed it in the direction of the clock, and the number and the hands glowed just long enough for her to see that it was six o'clock in the morning.

In the darkness that followed after the clock had ceased to glow, the image of the numbers and the hands was burned into her vision for a few moments. When at last she could properly see again, she made sure that she had her beaded bag in her robes and rose from the chair, making her way quietly out to the study. Snape was still sleeping when she made it to her own quarters.

She went straight to the bathroom, pointing her wand at the floating orbs and lighting her rooms as she went. Hermione had known she was a mess by that point, but nothing she had imagined came anywhere close to the sight that greeted her in the mirror.

Her hair, which was still down, hung in untidy, unkempt curls and waves that were tangled and bent at odd angles from her not brushing it and sleeping on it wet, not to mention that it stuck up in places and lone strands of it were flying in every direction; her eyes were bloodshot and below them were dark bags, half-circles as proof of how tired she was; her face was pale and she looked more strained than she'd ever seen herself before, even during the war; her teeth felt gritty and unclean because she hadn't brushed them the night before; her robes were a crumpled, wrinkly mess, some places worse than others; she had rumpled socks on her feet and had an all-over look that simply said: _spent_.

Sighing, she filled the bathtub but denied herself much time in the luxury of the hot water. She took only as much time as she needed to wash herself and such before she climbed back out and dried off. Then she brushed her hair, pulling it back into a messy-but-acceptable bun like the morning before. She closed her eyes and reveled in the mint taste sweeping through her mouth as she brushed her teeth and finally scrutinized herself in the mirror once again. She looked much better than she had upon entering the bathroom, but still had the appearance of a tired person. She figured she would look that way until this whole thing was over.

Pulling her new, clean robes over her head and new socks on her feet, she grabbed her wand and the beaded bag from her bed and left her own quarters once more. She checked the clock in the teachers' lounge and nodded to herself; it was six-thirty. Then she entered Snape's room and quietly shut the door behind her. It was dark in his rooms besides the light of the fire and she stood still for a moment before her eyes adjusted and she could see. Then she walked quietly to the chair beside the bed and sank down into it. Now it was time to wait. When Snape came around, she would give him a drink and bathe him with cool water once more. Was he any better today than he had been the night before? She didn't dare light her wand or the orbs on the ceiling for fear of waking him, especially since he seemed to be breathing with less difficulty than when he'd first fallen asleep the night before.

She bit her lip, suppressing the sudden urge to light her wand-tip and check to see whether his dark mark had changed color and whether the skin around it was still inflamed. She didn't have much time to fight the desire, though, because just then the door opened very quietly. Hermione stood and walked around the frame that separated Snape's bedroom from his study. She stepped down into the study and peered through the darkness at the headmistress. She walked up and the older witch whispered, "Miss Granger, I have news from Azkaban. Please accompany me to my office."

Sitting in McGonagall's office, Hermione glanced between the headmistress and the Minister of Magic. The headmistress looked to Hermione. "Please describe Professor Snape's ailments to Kingsley."

Hermione nodded. "His dark mark is—or was—changing colour. Last night it was dark grey rather than black and I'm not sure whether it will fade more or darken or stay the way it is. The area around the mark is all badly inflamed. And he is experiencing terrible pain all throughout his body. I don't think it's just the surface and exterior, either. His skin his terribly hot to the touch; it's as if he has a fever, and all I can do to soothe it is bathe him with cool water with a rag."

Kinsley looked troubled. "You say all you can do is bathe it with a wet sponge or rag?"

Hermione nodded. "I tried several other treatments and it's almost as if the dark mark is able to reject them. It caused him more pain when I spread healing cream on his arm over the mark and when I gave him a potion to soothe the pain he almost choked to death and ended up throwing it back up. Water is the only remedy that the dark mark doesn't reject when I try to soothe his hurts."

The minister nodded. He glanced at the headmistress, who nodded her consent, and then turned back to Hermione. "Minerva told me to check the other death eaters in Azkaban for strange ailments. All of them are terribly weak and in copious amounts of pain. And each has very red skin around his or her dark mark, which has, as you said, faded to a dark grey rather than black. I sent a ministry healer to check up on Malfoy Manor. They have it too."

Hermione frowned. "And do you suppose this is linked with the dark lord's death?"

He nodded sagely. "It seems that he thought he would live forever, but took the time to set a special curse within the dark mark upon its appearance on the arm of his followers, so that if he ever did die and they failed him, they would die miserable deaths as well. We've no idea how to cure it, and while I admit I'm not exactly devastated by the news that the Malfoy family may die out completely, I wish them health because they _are_ free for a reason. And Severus . . . is a good man. He doesn't deserve, after everything he's done, to go like this. The man deserves a little happiness after that hell of a life he made it through."

"How are you going to find remedies?" Hermione asked. "I only tried a few different things with Professor Snape and I felt like I was performing some kind of sick experiment on him. It was like I was trying to see which treatment caused him the most pain!" Her eyes welled up with tears again, but she forced them away and continued, "Those witches and wizards may deserve to be in Azkaban with the Dementors, but they don't deserve to be experimented on! To do so would be a savage, terrible, unforgivable thing to do! We would be no better than them to put them through such torture!"

"Miss Granger," he said calmly, "I understand exactly how you feel. Please do not doubt that I feel the same way as you do. But would you rather have them experience _some _pain and then be healed, or die very painful, drawn-out deaths?"

Hermione was silent. Either could be worse than the other; they could die terrible deaths or experience much worse if the experiments continued to fail over and again.

The minister spoke again. "And the death eaters are not quite as miserable in Azkaban as you think; we have terminated the Dementors that remained and your friends Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley are, in fact, tracking down many of the rest at this very moment."

"No Dementors," Hermione repeated, awed by the very idea. "But I thought Harry and Ron were in Bulgaria going after Rookwood?"

He nodded. "They were. But he seemed to have sensed this strange ailment coming and hidden himself away someplace where we can't get to him. He has, as of the moment, slipped beneath our radar. Seeing that he'll die anyway without the proper assistance or treatment—whatever that may be—I sent your friends after Dementors. They are excellent at conjuring patronuses, and so young too!"

Hermione smiled lightly at the thought of Harry and Ron. She wondered if Ron thought about her before conjuring a patronus, wondered if perhaps she was his happy memory. But then she was brought back to reality and the present and looked up at the two adults standing over her. "Is there anything else?"

They shook their heads. She nodded and stood. "I should go, then. Professor Snape-"

"You should just start calling him Severus, dear," the headmistress broke in.

Hermione was shocked. "What?"

"You should start referring to the man you are caring for by his first name, not his professional or his last." McGonagall said clearly.

"But-" Hermione stammered.

McGonagall smiled down at her and said, "You were once his student, which called for his proper title. But now you are his colleague. I only call him 'Professor' or 'Professor Snape' when I am speaking about him to students. 'Severus' is his first name and that is how I know him. All of the staff know each other by their first names."

"That's fine for you," Hermione said politely, "but I don't think he would be very pleased to find that I assumed we were on first-name terms."

At this, Kingsley let out a bark-like laugh and looked at Hermione with a grin on his face. "Oh-ho," he said, turning to McGonagall, "this one has a sense of humor! She'll do well with the students."

"But I'm serious!" Hermione insisted.

The headmistress smiled. "He may not like the idea now, but he will have you accept you as a colleague when you're sitting at the staff table every night, starting the first night of September. And you already are sitting at the table with the rest of us and helping us with the school. Also, you may call me Minerva now, rather than _Professor _or _Headmistress_."

At the thoughts of repairing the school, Hermione asked, "But Profess—I mean, _Minerva—_if I'm required to stay by Snape's—I mean, _Severus'_—side all of the time, how can I help with the restoration?"

The headmistress sighed and leaned over her desk, patting Hermione's arm. "Don't worry about that, dear, we can handle it without you. Granted, I'll have to tackle the places you were set up for, but don't fret; we'll do just fine. You just worry about taking care of Severus and making him as comfortable as possible." Then she clapped her hands together. "Now, you ought to get back, as you said. Kingsley," she turned to the minister, and Hermione sensed her dismissal and left the headmistress' office.

When she closed Snape's door quietly behind her, she found the room just as quiet as before. But when she entered the bedroom she knew Snape—no, she scolded herself, _Severus_—was awake. She sat down and pointed her wand at the orbs on the ceiling, which glowed dimly as they had the night before. Hermione decided that no matter what the headmistress said, she would always think of the man on the bed as _Snape, _not _Severus_. Snape's black eyes followed her every move after she lit the room.

She held the cup to his lips and he drank quite a lot, and when he was finished she again used her wand to wet the cloth and began bathing him with the cool water. She started on his left side and worked her way to his right as she had the night before. She had half expected it to be easier this time, but instead she found her eyes more drawn than ever before to his pale skin. When she was done at last, she set the cloth down in its place and stared back at the professor for a few moments. Then he closed his eyes. His breathing became steady and less pained than before.

Hermione watched him for a few moments. Then it started to dawn on her; the headmistress was right, she had begun to care about Snape. The old bat of the dungeons was tugging at her heartstrings and making her emotions a mess. And it wasn't for some strange fancy a student had taken to her teacher. No, she didn't have a crush on him. Rather, when she saved him in the shrieking shack she had created a bond between them, a connection. And even though neither had been aware of it before, she realized that she had come to care about what happened to him after that day of the last battle.

Now tears were streaming silently down her cheeks. It wasn't fair. None of it. Snape had given his everything and now he was just suffering more. She had saved him and hoped that perhaps this would be his chance to get what he deserved; a happy, peaceful life lived however _he_ wanted and not under the influence of _anyone_ else. But she had just caused him more pain, as he was now dying slowly and painfully, wasting away before her eyes. She couldn't just _do_ _nothing_ about it. But at the same time she refused to try any more "remedies" on him, for fear of hurting him worse. She took her handkerchief from her bag and wiped her face. Then she managed to stop crying and put the handkerchief back, wetting the cloth and bathing him once again with cool water.

He seemed to sleep right through it all as she dabbed the wet cloth on his chest and arms and stomach, or at least he just laid there with his eyes clothes and didn't look at her. "I'm sorry," she would whisper occasionally, or allow the words to escape her lips on a nearly-silent breath. The least she could do for putting him through this torture was take care of him and apologize as sincerely as was humanly possible.

While Snape slept, Hermione sat back in her chair and looked around the room. It was dark, all of it. The walls were dark wood, much darker even than the wood on the walls in her rooms. The bedframe and wardrobe and wood in all of the furniture were the same dark wood. The couch by the fire in the study was black leather. The floor of the study was flat, smooth grey stone, while in the bedroom it was wood that was just a few shades lighter than the walls. The bathroom walls were stone, as was the floor. The faucets and things in the bathroom were all silver. The ceiling in all three rooms was grey stone.

Hermione couldn't help but admire the study, where the walls had bookshelves built into them and were stacked with lined books on all sides, leaving only enough space for the fireplace and chimney to fit between shelves on one wall. There was a desk in the study just as in Hermione's, though Snape had placed it in a different corner than Hermione's was. Having gotten her first good look at it, Hermione thought that the study had much the same appearance as a library would. She walked along the walls, letting her fingers trail over the many books on the shelves. None of the books were dusty, and Hermione wondered which charm Snape had used to keep them clean and free of dust like they were.

She returned to her chair by the bed not long after and set her wand and her beaded bag on the bedside table before leaving to her own room and returning shortly. She brought a book bag filled with her favorite books and the one on advanced transfiguration, along with her notebook filled with notes on how she was going to teach that year. She flipped through the pages of the notebook and skimmed over her carefully outlined points about the differences between teaching first year students and teaching those who had already passed their OWLs.

She then tucked the notebook away and took out a small paperback book, a muggle book filled with fairytales. Being a muggleborn definitely gave her the advantage of understanding both the wizard world and the muggle world, and she was now familiar with fairytales and legends and facts and fictions from both. She smiled as the story of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves came to life within the thin, worn old pages beneath her fingers.

She lost track of time and looked up, setting her book down in her lap, when the headmistress entered, pointing her wand at two floating trays of steaming breakfast. One had the usual array of delicious foods, and the other, a small bowl of gruel and a glass of pumpkin juice. Hermione set her tray on the bedside table, moving her wand and beaded bag and books to her book bag, and set Snape's tray on the edge of the bed. He opened his eyes when McGonagall nodded towards the gruel and said, speaking to Hermione, "It's been sweetened with just enough sugar, but it isn't meant for the taste. We were just hoping we could offer something that he seemed to have some hope of keeping down and that would make him stronger."

Hermione nodded and was rather surprised when the headmistress left. Snape had turned his eyes to her without turning his head. She stood and propped him up against the pillows so that he was in a sitting position before giving the food a second glance. She stacked the pillows behind his head so he didn't have to hold it up and could relax, not having to strain any of his pained muscles.

She offered him the cup of water first. He refused. She offered the pumpkin juice, and he drank half of it before he stopped. Hermione scooped a small spoonful of gruel up and held it where he could see it. She brought it to his mouth and he ate it, not giving any sign of either enjoying or disliking what she was giving him. She fed him the rest of the gruel, spoonful by spoonful, careful not to spill the steaming food on his bare chest. He seemed able to consume regular food without a problem from the dark mark, and Hermione was relieved, having been worried the entire time she was feeding him. He drank the rest of the pumpkin juice and the cup refilled itself but Hermione allowed him only one more cupful before she set it back and offered him water instead. He drank several cups of water and then closed his eyes. He looked pleased, seeming to feel a bit less helpless because he was sitting and not lying down.

Instead of eating her own food, Hermione bathed Snape once more with the wet cloth after she noticed the hot gruel had made him too hot and he was sweating. Then she sat down and ate a cold breakfast, but it tasted wonderful to her and she could have cared less that it was cold; Snape looked relatively better than before.

His dark mark was a lighter grey than it had been just last night and the skin around it seemed to be more soothed and not half as inflamed. Hermione was relieved by this, but also worried; Kingsley had said that it was a curse and Snape would _die_. Things could only get worse from here if the minister was right.

Looking down at him, she couldn't help but let her eyes drift over him to see if she could make him more comfortable in any way. She shook her head, silently scolding herself when she realized she'd never taken his shoes off the night before. His feet might be aching just as bad as the rest of him, and if they were then shoes would definitely not help the problem. So she stood and carefully eased his shoes off his feet. His eyes opened as soon as she touched his shoes, and he stared at the ceiling while she took them off. She set his shoes at the end of the bed and when she straightened, feeling pleased that he was free of them, she looked down at his socks and her face fell; should she remove his socks as well? And should she bathe his feet?

Hermione bit her lip and stared at his feet, though her eyes unfocused as she thought. Snape's eyes drifted from the ceiling to Hermione and he watched her for several seconds. She sensed his eyes on her and looked up at him, wishing he could voice what he wanted. Then, with obvious effort, he said in a hoarse whisper, "I don't want to sit anymore."

Hermione was shocked but pleased that he could speak, and yet there was a pang of fear in the back of her mind; if he was dying, she would only see him get worse and worse until he couldn't talk or move or even open his eyes. She bit her lip while she was adjusting his pillows and helping him lie down again and didn't realize how hard she was biting it until she tasted blood in her mouth. She released the grip her teeth had on her lip immediately, sucking on her bottom lip and scolding herself, once again silently, for being so foolish. She was relieved to hear him talk. Could the love that had protected him against Nagini in the shrieking shack also protect him from the dark mark? She suppressed a smile as she recalled what he'd just said. There had been no asking for help. There had been no gratitude or thankfulness in his words. He had simply stated his own desire and expected her to obey. And of course she had. At least she knew he was still the same in his mind as he had been before; he was just as unkind and ungrateful and annoyed at needing assistance as before.

"Do your feet hurt?" she asked, looking into his eyes.

She could have sworn that his eyes actually got darker and they definitely grew colder than before. He managed to put a half-scowl on his face and glared at her. She decided they probably did but he didn't like being cared for or asked about his health. Shaking her head in mock scolding at him but with a slight smile tugging at her mouth, she went to the foot of the bed and began carefully and gently easing his socks off of his feet. They, like his shoes and the rest of his clothing, were black. When she had them off she set them on top of the shoes and looked down at his feet. She didn't know what she'd been expecting; goblin feet; troll feet; something ugly and not very nice to look at. Now she was thinking like Ron, guessing that the unseen and unknown when it came to the potions master were all gross and disgusting.

His feet were actually not so bad. Granted, it wasn't like he was a muggle woman and had given himself a pedicure lately, but his toenails were trimmed, his feet were clean, and overall they were far from ugly. Pleasantly surprised that she wouldn't have to deal with the feet that she had pictured in her mind—ugly, dirty, hairy with overgrown toenails and perhaps even abscesses or dead skin or something revolting—she went to the bedside table and wetted the cloth again, this time to bathe his feet.

He seemed as if he wished he could rise from the bed and escape from her or perhaps even attack her for touching his feet, and Hermione assumed that no one had ever touched him besides, well, _himself_. And these were just his feet; what must it be like for him to be still and do nothing while she bathed his bare chest and stomach? Granted, Hermione realized how personal and intimate it would be for anyone to touch _her_ in those places, but Snape knew in full that she was only caring for him and she was only doing what she had to in order to help relieve some of his pain. When she was finished bathing his feet, she returned to her chair beside the bed.

Snape had stopped glaring at her, and she wondered whether he'd finally realized that it would have little to no effect or if it just hurt too much for him to do it continually. He closed his eyes and after a while his breathing became steady and with ease of one who had forgotten their pain. Hermione looked at him for a moment, carefully scrutinizing his face. Was he really sleeping? Deciding to find out, she dimmed the light from the orbs on the ceiling and said quietly, "I hope you don't think I'm unaware of your dislike of me, and of this situation." Then she waited for a response. His eyes remained closed, his breathing went on steadily, and his face didn't even twitch.

Satisfied that he was really sleeping, Hermione began talking very quietly, needing to voice her thoughts to someone, anyone, even if it _was_ to someone who wasn't conscious and wasn't going to answer. She started with the first thought that popped into her head and sighed before saying, "McGonagall says I should call you _Severus _rather than _Professor _or _Sir_. But you would hate me for it, wouldn't you? I mean, I'll have to call you by name when I'm around the headmistress, but when she's not there you needn't worry; I'll just call you Snape or something of the like . . ." and she went on and on, keeping her voice quiet, barely above a whisper, and talking to the sleeping man about whatever popped into her head. Some of the things she spoke about were worries and fears, some were things that made her happy, some were regrets about the war and things she wished she'd done that could have saved just one more person. She fell silent for a few moments and then decided to tell him, regardless of whether he was asleep or not, what Kingsley had said. "The Minister of Magic went to Azkaban to see the prisoners. Anyone with the dark mark is experiencing the same pains and ailments that you are. No one has any idea of a cure and Kingsley said it's Voldemort's way of getting revenge on you all for letting him die." She paused, staring at the potion master's face, which, as it had been since she found him on the floor the night before, was contorted slightly in pain. Then she added in a soft whisper, "Kingsley said it's a curse. A drawn out, painful killing curse, much worse than _Avada_ _Kedavra_."

She was silent then, still staring at his face and wondering if he ever had dreams. Her voice fell to be so quiet that it was no more than a breath on her lips. "I don't want you to die," she said, and then she leaned back in her chair and buried her face in her hands, wishing she could somehow take the curse instead of Snape and regretting saving his life all over again.

Hermione opened her eyes and looked up when someone laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. She realized she'd fallen asleep with her head in her hands and found the headmistress looking down at her with a motherly, concerned expression on her face. She had set a tray of food on the table and another on the bed. Hermione rubbed her eyes and blinked at the clock. It was noon. She looked to Snape, who appeared to still be sleeping. "Miss Granger, are you quite alright?" the headmistress asked quietly.

Hermione turned to her. "I'm fine," she whispered back. "And thank you for bringing the food."

The headmistress nodded and asked, "You know how to reheat the food with your wand if Severus sleeps much longer?"

Hermione nodded. She sensed that McGonagall was going to leave right away, and had mixed emotions about it; she wanted someone to talk to who would answer her, but at the same time she wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She was unsurprised when the headmistress gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, turned without a word, and left. Hermione looked back to Snape and watched him open his eyes slowly. She glanced to the tray of food; another bowl of gruel, slightly larger than the last, and another cup of pumpkin juice. "McGonagall brought lunch," Hermione said quietly, looking back at Snape.

His eyes traveled in the direction she had glanced when looking to the tray, and she set the tray on her lap and moved onto the edge of her seat, leaning over the edge of the bed. She fed Snape and let him drink just as she had during the last meal and when he was finished she bathed his torso and then his feet with the cloth. It was then, bathing his feet, when it occurred to her that he had been in bed since the night before. Her eyes flicked to his face and she knew he'd seen her own face redden slightly. Surely he needed to use the bathroom by now? Feeling embarrassed at the thought of it and ashamed that she hadn't considered it before, she sat back down and stared at the floor, wondering how to solve this new dilemma. Even if she could get Snape into the bathroom, he was in pain just breathing and speaking, and she knew that he couldn't stand on his own, let alone remove his clothes to use the toilet.

She bit her lip and was reminded of the sore place there when pain shot through her mouth and she tasted blood as she had earlier. Relinquishing her lip, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She opened them and looked around when she heard the door open and close. She was more than surprised to see one of wizards from the Ministry. "Miss Granger," he said, nodding his head towards her. Hermione wasn't used to being greeted in such a way and just stared at him. He went on, "Flitwick was going to come but they're having a particularly precarious situation with some reconstruction in the courtyard." He nodded to her again and then pointed his wand at Snape, who had been glaring at him since he entered. Snape rose from the bed and floated towards the bathroom and he and the ministry worker disappeared inside.

Hermione felt a mixture of relief and worry. She didn't want to be a prick, but the Ministry worker had done nothing to prove himself trustworthy and Hermione actually felt a bit cautious around him. She didn't know whether she trusted him to take Snape away and not hurt him. He hadn't been caring for the potions master and probably didn't realize how easy it was to hurt him. She didn't exactly want to be the one taking Snape to use the bathroom, but she didn't like the strange wizard taking Snape out of her sight. She laughed to herself when she thought of what Ron would say had he been there; "You _do_ care about that old bat of the dungeons! You feel _protective_ of him, the slimy git! Blimey, 'Mione!"

She leaned back in her chair, wondering what Ron was doing at the moment. She glanced at the bathroom door and tried not to think about how awkward it must be for the two wizards inside. She stared at the floor and forced herself to think about Ron and Harry until the door opened and Snape floated out beside the Ministry Wizard. Hermione watched as the man set Snape down on the bed and then turned and left the room without a word, closing the door just as quietly as he'd opened it. She realized her lunch was untouched but had suddenly lost her appetite. She could only imagine how humiliated she would feel if she were in Snape's position. And Snape was the man who nobody touched and who wanted no one's help. He must be furious. All she could think to console herself was that hopefully because _she_ hadn't done it and the Ministry worker _had_, Snape would be mad at the other wizard and not at her.

She finally looked at the potion master's face. His eyes were closed, but she was sure he wasn't asleep. She pushed her food tray as far away from her on the table as she could and ignored her stomach when it growled. She had come to a terrible conclusion; to die a drawn-out, painful death was bad, but for the Snape dying and experiencing pain were _nothing_ compared to the humiliation he had just been through. She found herself whispering apologies once more and wiping tears from her face again as she bathed him with the wet cloth.

She leaned her head all of the way back on her chair and stared at the ceiling. This was infuriating; McGonagall had brought more food and been worried when she saw that Hermione hadn't eaten, staying and making Hermione eat the new tray of food while she watched. Then she had left with the empty trays and Hermione had fed Snape. He had eaten, and drank, but not once in the last few hours had he looked at her. He was refusing. She fought back more tears as she bathed him yet again, finally deciding that it didn't matter anymore and just letting the hot, salty drops of liquid roll over her cheeks. She understood if he was upset with her. She deserved his anger. She had brought him from the brink of death only to put him through a living hell. But didn't he understand that this was hard for her too? And didn't he realize how sorry she was, how she regretted ever going back to the shrieking shack that day?

When she was done bathing him she set the cloth on the bedside table and clutched her robes in her hands, squeezing so tightly that her fingernails dug into her palms through the fabric. She bit her lip lightly and looked down at Snape. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, but she was sure he had drifted off and couldn't hear. Pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, she curled up in her chair and buried her face in her robes, crying herself to sleep in silence after she put out the lights.

She dreamt of Snape dying, over and over again, always lying in the bed beside her chair, each death worse than the one before it. When she woke sometime after midnight, fresh tears had soaked her face and dampened her robes. She wiped her eyes, trying to forget what horrible things her dreams had put in her mind, and curled herself into a ball. It took more than a few minutes for her to fall asleep and then she was no longer haunted, but drifted through a restful, dreamless sleep.

**I don't have much to say besides a big thank you to YOU for reading and asking if you could please review to let me know how I'm doing and how you're liking the story! Much love! ~Taelr**


	8. Accepting the Inevitable

Hermione had lost track of the days since she'd brought Snape back to Hogwarts from Saint Mungo's. Everything had blurred together after about the fourth day of caring for Snape, who was too weak to do more than open his eyes and swallow his food. The days began to play out like clockwork:

Six o'clock- Hermione would wake and go to her own quarters, where she bathed and cleaned herself up every morning.

Six thirty- Hermione returned to Snape's room and would sit in the darkness and think or go back to sleep.

Seven thirty- Snape would wake up and Hermione would bathe him with the wet cloth and let him drink as much water as he wanted.

Eight o'clock- The headmistress would arrive with two trays of breakfast and leave as soon as she'd come. Hermione would feed Snape his pumpkin juice and gruel.

Eight thirty- Hermione would bathe Snape again.

Nine o'clock- The Ministry Wizard—whose name was Harold Archibald—would come to take Snape to the bathroom.

Nine thirty- Hermione would bathe Snape again.

Ten o'clock- Snape would sleep and Hermione would wait silently and either read or think.

Ten thirty, eleven o'clock, eleven thirty- Hermione would bathe Snape once every half hour.

Twelve o'clock- The headmistress would arrive with two trays of lunch and leave as soon as she'd come. Hermione would feed Snape his pumpkin juice and gruel.

Twelve thirty- Hermione would bathe Snape again.

One o'clock- Archibald would come to take Snape to the bathroom.

One thirty- Hermione would bath Snape again.

Two o'clock- Snape would sleep or close his eyes and rest while Hermione read in or sat and thought in silence.

Two thirty, three o'clock, three thirty, four o'clock, four thirty- Hermione would bathe Snape once every half hour.

Five o'clock- Archibald would come and take Snape to the bathroom.

Five thirty- Hermione would bathe Snape again.

Six o'clock- The headmistress would arrive with two trays of dinner and leave as soon as she'd come. Hermione would feed Snape his pumpkin juice and gruel.

Six thirty- Hermione would bathe Snape again.

Seven o'clock- Kingsley would come with McGonagall and give a report of how their efforts to find a cure were coming along. He also gave some news from the muggle world.

Seven thirty- Hermione would bathe Snape again.

Eight o'clock- Snape would go to sleep and Hermione would sit and wait until she was able to shut her mind down and do so as well.

Every day Snape got weaker and weaker, and every day the gruel and pumpkin juice he was given was thinned more and more with water, because he couldn't handle anything more. Hermione offered Snape water throughout the day, whenever he was awake. She also woke several times each night and bathed him while he slept. The other workers were busy with the repairs to the school and the headmistress was occupied by matters with the Ministry and managing the school, while still discussing the problem of the dark mark with Kingsley every day. So Hermione lived a solitary life, never speaking aside from the fifteen minutes to half an hour that the Minister of Magic and the headmistress were down in Snape's rooms to give her the latest news. And yet she was almost never completely alone; the only time she was by herself was in the morning when she went to her own rooms.

The first few nights it had been hard for her to shut down her mind and fall asleep. She'd had a few sleepless nights or instances where she cried herself to sleep. But soon she was numb. No more tears fell and there was hardly a thought on her mind besides how she could help Snape at _that_ moment. The past and the future didn't bother her much, and she focused wholly and completely on the present. There was dread in her stomach, however, and it seemed to grow like a disease within her with every passing day. She dreaded the day when Snape would lose consciousness or cease to wake up and would remain unconscious until his heart stopped beating.

Hermione still apologized in whispers at times, but after a while that, too, ceased. She had never felt so emotionally drained and numb to what was happening in her life. But the numbness was forced. Deep inside she had to face the fact that she was being ripped apart by being involved in everything that was happening with Snape, and once he had died, she was going to snap and the numbness would vanish, she knew. It was all a waiting game; she was waiting for something to happen to Snape, waiting for it all to end, waiting for the snap. And when it came, she wasn't sure exactly what would happen. She only knew that this carefully continued numbness and lack of emotional involvement would cease to exist.

And then a house elf appeared in Snape's room one day while he slept. The resounding _crack_ when the elf apparated echoed in the room, but Snape didn't stir. Hermione stood up and the elf bowed before saying, "The headmistress wishes Miss Granger to go to her office at once." Hermione nodded and the elf disapparated. She glanced back at Snape before heading for McGonagall's office.

Sitting in the chair in front of the desk, Hermione looked from the headmistress to Kingsley. It was the Minister who spoke. "I have ceased the search for a cure."

Hermione's eyes widened slightly. "Why?" she asked, her voice soft and hoarse from being used to so rarely.

"The others"—Hermione knew he was referring to the death eaters—"are just as weak as Severus. I fear that any more—how did you refer to them? Oh yes, _experiments_—I fear that any more _experiments_ will be the death of them. We found nothing through all of our time spent searching."

Kingsley nodded to her and turned to talk to McGonagall in low tones. Recognizing that she was dismissed, Hermione stood and left the office. She glanced at the portrait of Dumbledore as she left, noticing the strange, seemingly sad look on his face. But then her thoughts were back on what Kingsley had said about Snape and the other death eaters. She didn't know how she felt about this news. On one hand, the death eaters were no longer experiencing extra pain at the hands of Kingsley's men, but on the other, the official news that there was no cure meant that Snape would, indeed, die. Hermione realized that she had been numb all this time because she had never allowed herself to fully accept that after all this, Snape would actually die. She had been hoping deep down inside that he would live somehow. But now that hope was lost.

She turned a corner and collided with someone. Mumbling an apology without looking up, she picked herself back up off the ground and continued walking. That someone grabbed her arm gently and turned her around to face him, but her eyes were unfocused and she was too lost in thought to care whose face she was looking at. She jumped and became aware of her surroundings when a familiar voice said, "Hermione, are you all right?"

"Harry?" Blinking, she stared at him for a moment before throwing her arms around him in a hug.

"Blimey," said another voice from behind Harry, and Hermione opened her eyes to peer over Harry's shoulder at Ron. He frowned and said, "Let go of my girlfriend and stop stealing all of her affection!"

Hermione actually smiled and hugged Ron when Harry let her go. She stepped back and looked at them both. "What are you doing here? I thought you were out hunting down Dementors?"

At this, both boys became somber. "McGonagall asked Kingsley to let us off to come see you . . ." Rom trailed off and fidgeted, staring at his feet.

Then it hit her. Hermione knew exactly why they were there; McGonagall had put them there to act as a comfort now that it was inevitable that Snape would die. Remembering Snape, she said, "I've got to get back and take care of him and-"

"No," said Ron.

Hermione looked at him and Harry turned on him. "What?" they chorused.

"No," he repeated. "Look, 'Mione, let someone else do it for once, it can't be that hard to-"

"Let someone else do it for once?" Hermione repeated, not believing her own ears. "Ronald, I've been doing it for the past," she paused, having no idea how long she'd spent taking care of the potions master, and began her sentence again. "I've been taking care of him from the beginning! No one else knows exactly how! I have to do it! It's my job, and my duty to him! I can't just walk away; even to spend time with you!"

Ron narrowed his eyes. Hermione watched him. Surely he understood that only she knew how to take care of Snape just the proper way to keep him as comfortable as possible? But he said in a low, accusatory voice, "You'd rather stay with him than with me."

It was a statement, not a question. Hermione barked a short, completely humorless laugh. "As of the moment, yes!"

Ron looked incredulous. "Why? I'm your boyfriend. I'm the one you quested with. I'm the one you should want to be with, not _him_!" Then his expression changed as something seemed to dawn on him and he yelled, "YOU CARE ABOUT HIM!"

Hermione glared at him. "I'm his nurse and his caretaker! I spend almost every moment of every day by his side trying to make him more comfortable! I saved his life and it's my fault he's going through this! Of course I care about him!"

Harry stood a few feet away and watched in silence. They were glaring at each other. "You love him, then." Ron said.

Now it was Hermione's turn to look incredulous. "Merlin, Ron, I said I _care_ about him. I don't _love_ him. There's a difference."

"Is there?" he challenged.

By now she was just annoyed. "Yes, there is! I care about him. I care about what happens to him. I do not love him, am not in love with him, and have never loved him."

The glaring continued. "Once he's dead will you stop caring and actually want to be with me for once?" Ron asked scathingly.

Hermione stared at him in shock. Harry did, too. Ron just glared at Hermione and ignored Harry. Then he turned his glare to Harry, who just stood, looking too shocked to say anything. While he looked away Hermione was boiling inside, and when he looked back she exploded, "Ronal Billius Weasley! I care very much right now what happens to him! And he's not dead yet! Don't you dare talk about him dying that way! You are so selfish and horrid, awful," the list went on and on, and she continued to yell. "Don't talk to me about being deserted. _This_ is something I have to do, something I'm _obligated_ to do. He's depending on me! McGonagall's depending on me! Dumbledore himself asked if I would be the one to take care of Snape, so even _Dumbledore_ is depending on me! And what about when you left Harry and me while we were searching for horcruxes? Did I whine and yell about you leaving me for someone else? No! And you left for _your_ _own_ _reasons_, not because someone _needed_ you! I can't believe you!"

By now Harry was hoping Ron regretted what he had said. Instead, however, the redhead only looked more furious. "Fine, then! Go! Go sit beside the old bat and cry because he's dying. You have accepted that, haven't you? He's dying, Hermione! He'll be dead soon. Dead! You can't care about or love someone who's dead, can you? I'm done! Done with you, done with Snape, done with everything! All of this! Done! Do you hear me? D. O. N. E. Done!"

He looked taken aback when Hermione said her next words with a smile on her face. But when she spoke he looked even angrier than before. "Well done, Ron!" she said as if talking to a small child, "I didn't know you could spell such a big word!" Then her voice was back to normal and before Ron could retort she said calmly. "I'm done, too. Goodbye, Ron." And turned, walking down the corridor away from her two best friends, or her one best friend and the boy who she had once thought she might love.

She heard footsteps as the people behind her moved. They split and went in opposite directions, one running towards her and one stalking down the corridor away from her. She ignored the running person until Harry grabbed her arm gently and turned her to face him again. "Hermione," he said quietly, "I'm sorry. About Ron and everything he said. I know I can't ask you to forgive him or make up with him because that's one lousy apology coming from me when he's the one who should apologize." Then his voice softened and he said, "And I'm sorry about Snape. Ron's leaving, but I'll stay here as long as you want me to. Until it's over, if that's what you want."

Hermione had no words for how grateful she was to have a friend like Harry. She just threw herself into his arms and started to cry. It was the first time she'd let her emotions get the best of her in days, maybe even weeks, she wasn't sure. Harry just held her, rubbing her back and letting her soak his shirt with her tears. "Sorry," she said when she saw what a mess his shirt was. He only laughed and hugged her before letting her go.

"Can I come with you?" Harry asked her. She knew he was referring to Snape's rooms.

She nodded but said, "Listen, Harry, I know you want to thank him, but he's really too weak to do anything and I think it's best if we're just quiet around him."

Harry didn't argue and only nodded, and they walked to the teachers' lounge. They entered Snape's room and Hermione closed the door quietly behind them, leading the way into the bedroom. She sat down and Harry stood at the foot of the bed and watched as she bathed Snape and offered him water. She had wiped her tears away and none fell on his bare chest, but she knew he would hardly notice or care about a bit of warm liquid on his skin with the cool. Hermione sniffed and set the cloth on the bedside table as she had countless times before. Then she stood and pointed her wand at her chair, duplicating it. Harry sat down gratefully beside her as she sank back down into her own seat.

That night, Hermione looked at Snape, who was sleeping, and then glanced at the clock on the wall. "Harry," she whispered, turning to him. He was leaning back in his chair and looked up at her from her notes on what she would teach come that September. He handed her the notebook and she whispered, "Go to my rooms. You can get a bath and sleep in the bed; you look tired."

He snorted softly. "I look tired? Hermione, have you looked in the mirror lately? You look a bit sleep-deprived and overworked yourself."

Hermione managed a small smile. "I'm fine," she said quietly. "Now go."

Harry shook his head, and they argued silently for some time, him shaking his head and her glaring murderously at him and jerking her chin towards the door. "Harry, go," she hissed.

He finally stood and shot her a halfhearted scowl before leaving, closing the door quietly behind him. Sighing softly at her friend's stubbornness, Hermione smiled to herself as she wetted the cloth and began bathing Snape. Even after countless times doing so, she still found her eyes pulled to his unnaturally pale skin, especially on his chest and stomach. Her smile faded and tears flooded her eyes as she worked in silence; this could be the last time she bathed Snape for all she knew. Then her argument with Ron came back to her and she let the tears slide down her cheeks. What a foolish boy. At least he would find someone like Lavender brown to snog instead, she figured.

For the first time, she didn't care whether her tears fell on Snape or not. He was sleeping and didn't stir, and it didn't seem to matter so much anymore. Maybe he would even feel the hot drips of liquid falling on his chest and know how completely sorry she was for putting him through this. There was another whispered apology, and then she set the cloth down on the table and sat back in her chair. She pulled her knees up to her chest as she had so often in the past few days, wrapped her arms around them, and set her chin on them, watching Snape's pale chest rise and fall ever-so-slightly as he took shallow breaths. She turned out the lights and resumed her curled up position, falling asleep with her chin resting on her knees.

**All right, if you hate me for making this one short I understand! But the next chapter will be longer and have some really big stuff! Thanks for hanging with me this long and you'll only have to wait a little while and I'll have the next chapter up! I can't wait! Please review if you have time or something to say! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed or favorited or followed or just read this story at all so far; It means so so so very much to me! Love you all! ~Taelr**


	9. Muggle Fairytales

Hermione was up at six o'clock as usual the next morning. She glanced at Snape through the dark before leaving for her own rooms. She had just made it inside when a soft snore from her bed reminded her that Harry was still there. She quietly got her clothes from her wardrobe and went to the bathroom, where she bathed and got dressed. For the first time in a long while, she actually took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. Harry was right; she looked completely exhausted, physically, emotionally, and mentally. And it wasn't just her face; she looked thinner and more work worn than ever before in her life. The fact that her face hadn't seen makeup or any cosmetics since she'd started caring for Snape might have made a difference as well as she was used to seeing herself at least mildly touched up. Sighing, she grabbed her things and went back into the bedroom, where she looked at the drawn curtains and wondered, for lack of the snores she'd heard earlier, if Harry was waking up.

Back in Snape's room, she made her way through the darkness, now knowing the layout of the rooms and being able to move through them with her eyes closed. Sitting down in the chair, she watched Snape's figure in the darkness. The fire had been lit by house elves and the light didn't reach the bed because of the frame that separated the study from the bedroom. The dark green fabric in the frame seemed to eat up all of the light and gave allowed only a feeble glow to show thorough it. The orbs on the ceiling were dark, but even with so little light, Snape's pale skin seemed to glow slightly in the darkness.

Snape stirred not long after she sat down and Hermione looked up, concerned. He didn't usually wake until over half an hour later. She didn't want to wake him if he had only twitched in his sleep, and leaned over the edge of the bed, peering at him through the darkness. She searched his face and realized that his eyes were open. With a sudden feeling of dread building in her stomach, she sat back and raised her wand to the floating orbs, and they dimly lit the room with a soft golden glow. Hermione looked over the man on the bed. Not knowing why she did it, and feeling just as she had when she went to the shrieking shack those weeks before, she put her hands on the edge of the bed and leaned on them, staring at Snape's face. He stared back. Although it was absurd, as he was too weak to talk, Hermione found herself asking softly, "Professor, are you all right?"

She jumped and nearly toppled over backwards when he turned his head towards her and said in his usual brusque voice, "Quite, Miss Granger, though I could do with some water."

Hermione leaned away from the bed and grabbed the cup on the bedside table. She was too shocked to reply as she held it to his lips and he drank until the cup was empty. She used her wand to refill it and asked hoarsely, "More?" but he shook his head so she set it back on the table. He blinked several times and she just stared at him. He stared right back.

She reached out and felt his arm. It was no longer burning, but cool. Her mouth fell open in shock. She stood up and leaned over him, lifting his left arm and examining it. All that was left of the dark mark was what looked like a simple, plain, normal scar. Her eyes widened as she looked at it. She noticed his arm was limp in her hands and turned to look at his face. "How do you feel?" she asked, and her voice was still hoarse.

"Much better than before. To live without pain is a nice thing to experience again," he answered, his deep voice ringing in the room and in Hermione's ears.

"No more pain?" she asked, shocked but hopeful.

She got the feeling he would have nodded if he could. "No. Though I am extremely weak. Speaking in itself is draining my energy."

Hermione looked at the clock. McGonagall would be there in a matter of minutes; there was no need to send Kreacher or some house elf after her. She turned back to Snape. He was looking at the clock now. They sat in silence until the door opened and McGonagall walked in with two trays of breakfast floating in front of her. She saw that Snape was awake and gave him a kindly smile. Then she looked to Hermione and said, "You look pleased about something. And there's color in your cheeks. I haven't seen that in days! Weeks, even! What's happened?"

Hermione turned and looked pointedly to Snape. "He's not burning up or in pain anymore. His dark mark's become nothing but a scar. And he's still terribly weak, but talking again."

At this, the headmistress hurried to the bedside and looked down on Snape. She touched a finger to his arm and her mouth opened in shock. "Severus," she said quietly, staring. She had obviously accepted that he was going to die and now the hard part was being sure that she could believe that he would live.

"Minerva," he answered. His voice was cold as usual, without feeling, and yet Hermione didn't think she could have been happier to hear any other voice in the world. He was going to live! The older witch jumped when he spoke and a smile split across her face. She left to get to her office and meet with Kingsley, who would be waiting for her and needed the news. She also wanted to know whether the other death eaters were getting better or were still the same.

Hermione fed Snape as usual, though now he was free to make faces over the plain gruel and watered-down pumpkin juice without pain and she barely held in her laughter at some of the expressions he wore during the meal. Hermione settled back in her chair when he was finished and began eating her own food. She realized that she hadn't done more than pick at the edges of her meals in weeks. She ate a few actual bites before noticing Snape's hungry gaze, which was directed towards the small loaf of bread on her tray. Breaking it open, she tore bite-sized chunks out of the inside of the loaf so that she got only the soft bread and not the crust. She fed Snape a few chunks of bread, and he actually seemed grateful for once.

She had just set the tray on the table when he said, "Granger," and she looked up.

"Sir?"

He sighed. "I was given a lecture by the headmistress, only the night before I collapsed, on the proper way to treat a colleague."

Hermione was confused. "Professor, I'm afraid I have no idea what you m-"

"You may call me Severus," he said, letting it out in a breath of air that she knew meant he was mildly annoyed to have to follow McGonagall's orders and was even more annoyed that he had to tell Hermione.

"Oh," she said simply.

He snorted and looked at her with his eyebrows raised.

"Oh," Hermione said again, "I suppose that means you can call me Hermione rather than Miss Granger, then."

He jerked his chin in a slight nod and then both fell silent, staring in opposite directions because of the sudden awkwardness. They were saved when the door could be heard opening and closed and they both turned to see who it was. Harry stepped up into the bedroom and saw that Severus was awake. He nodded to him and sat down in his seat, beside Hermione's. Severus looked at Harry. Hermione almost giggled, wondering if and when he would reveal that he was better to Harry. And at last, he did.

"Mr. Potter," he said coolly, as he had so many times when he suspected they were up to something.

Harry jumped in his seat and stared at the potions master. His jaw dropped just as Hermione's had. "You're . . . you're better?"

Severus let out a bark-like, humorless laugh and said, "Hardly recovered yet, but no longer in pain, yes."

Hermione pointed to Severus' left arm and said, "Look."

Harry did, and he stared. "It's gone!"

Snape rolled his eyes and scowled as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Indeed," he muttered.

Hermione made an excuse to leave them alone and went back to her room, actually sitting on the couch and petting Crookshanks on her lap for the first time in a long while. Harry came in later and said, "McGonagall and Kingsley are there and want to know exactly what you did to Snape last night after McGonagall left. I guess the other death eaters are still in really bad shape."

Hermione nodded and stood, pushing Crookshanks gently on his way. She raised an eyebrow at Harry, who grinned. There had been no words, but she knew that Harry had spoken to Severus and thanked him for all he'd done and was at last at peace about it. She smiled back and then left, her smile fading as she entered Severus' room. She went to her seat and looked to the two people standing on either side of the bed. They came over to her side and the headmistress sat down in Harry's chair. Kingsley leaned against the bedpost.

"Did you do anything differently last night than in the past?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. She had no memory of anything out of the ordinary from the night before. "Harry came in and watched me, but I fed him"—she looked to Severus—"and bathed him as usual. And then Harry went back to my rooms to sleep there and I stayed. After he left I bathed him one more time and-" she stopped. She blushed, looking up at the Minister of Magic. "And I cried while I was doing it. That's the one thing that was different. I guess I cried while I was doing it a long time ago but I never let the tears fall on him. Last night I stopped wiping them away because I kind of stopped caring for a minute. There was too much emotion for me to control." She shrugged, and watched as Kingsley and McGonagall exchanged a glance.

"What?" she asked, wanting to know what they were thinking, "How could my tears change anything against the dark mark?"

The two older people exchanged another glance and them McGonagall said, "It would seem that the same reason Harry is alive, and the same reason Severus survived Nagini's attack as he did, is the same reason he is well today."

Understanding dawned on Hermione's face. "But how could I-"

"Harry was protected by his mother's love when he was a baby. He was protected by his own love and sacrifice for the people at Hogwarts when he met Voldemort in the forbidden forest. Severus was protected from Nagini by his love for Lily and his sacrifice to her. And now, it would seem, that love itself has proved strong enough to counteract dark magic yet again; Your love is what saved Severus this time," McGonagall explained, looking from Hermione to Severus and back again.

Hermione spluttered, "But I don't love him! I care whether he lives or dies, but I don't . . ." she trailed off, staring at the man on the bed, who was staring back. They glared at each other for a moment and then their faces relaxed when they looked at McGonagall. "Hermione," she said, addressing her former student by name for the first time, "Don't worry; we do not think that you are in love with Severus. Even I can see that you aren't. What I meant was that you have come to care whether he lives or dies, as you said. You care about him. But you showed him love by accepting the job as his caretaker, and by continuing it even when it got very difficult. You can love without being in love, and you _showed_ love. That was all that was necessary." She smiled then, and said, "You cared, and were sorry because you thought that his suffering was your fault, but by letting your tears touch him, you gave him the only thing you could that the dark mark couldn't reject; love."

Kingsley finished, "And now Severus will live whether the other death eaters die or not."

Hermione couldn't take it all in. This was huge; he would live; she wouldn't be responsible for his death; life could go on. She looked from one person to the next, ending with Severus and allowing her gaze to linger for several seconds longer than was really necessary. She turned back to the headmistress when she said, "As Severus is still very weak, but no longer in a life-threatening situation, you may sleep in your own quarters once again. You're job as caretaker will require that you spend your days here with Severus, though. Unless you wish to resign and help with the school?"

"No," Hermione said quickly, not realizing how strongly she felt about her job as nurse and caretaker until she said it. "I'd like to keep this job, if that's all right."

"Of course it's all right," Kingsley boomed. "You've just saved his life for the second time. I can think of no one better for the job of nursing him back to health and helping him with recovery."

He, the headmistress, and Hermione turned when Severus said dryly, "Do I have no say in this?"

"Well of course you do, Severus," McGonagall replied. "Did you have a problem with Hermione continuing to care for you?"

Scowling, he grudgingly said, "No, but-"

"Then it's settled!" McGonagall announced loudly.

Hermione glanced at Severus and saw that he was wearing a rather sour expression and his eyes had turned colder than usual once again. He was glaring at the headmistress. Before he could protest, she and Kingsley made to leave. "Hermione," she said, "Mr. Potter will have a few moments with you for a goodbye and for you to explain how Severus was cured."

"Then he can get back to the Dementors and help Weasley," Kingsley said brightly. Then his face darkened. "The poor boy's having a hell of a time out there on his own; it's as if when he left without Potter, his happiness died. I don't think he's been able to conjure a patronus since he left yesterday, though he's been trying very hard."

Hermione felt her heart react to Ron's name, but it wasn't the girlish, excited way it had always been before. Now she was defending against sour feelings rising inside of her. Pushing those away, she followed the headmistress and the Minister out to the teachers' lounge. From there the two older people left and Hermione went to her rooms. Harry was waiting inside. She explained Severus' being cured and how it had come about, and Harry was grinning at her. Then she told him about how Severus had complained a bit about her being his caretaker. Harry's answer was simple and made sense: "The old coot doesn't know what to do with someone who cares about him, Hermione! Isn't it obvious? He has never had someone who cared about him apart from his mother and mine, and my mother didn't exactly show him that she cared by loving my father instead of him. Snape is too shocked and inexperienced with people who care in his life; he doesn't know how to do anything but push you away."

Hermione nodded, thoughtful. "I expect he'll distance himself from me as much as he can once he's recovered; it wasn't exactly comfortable, me bathing his bare skin and him being taken to the bathroom and me nursing him and everything. I doubt he'll want to be around me after that."

Harry's gaze unfocused as he became pensive. "Will it bother you, if he alienates you like that?"

Hermione shrugged. "I care about whether he lives or dies. I'm not trying to have a friendship with him. There's a difference, so I suppose it shouldn't bother me much at all."

Harry nodded and then pulled her into a hug. "Now I've got to go back to Ron and help him; apparently the breakup isn't so easy on his side of things," he grinned at her, which surprised her. She gave him a questioning look and he said, "I was always worried that something might go wrong if you two got to be more than just best friends. But Ron shouldn't have said what he did and acted like he did. You two need a little time away from each other. You know Ron; he just gets caught up in the moment and lets his temper get the better of him. This is a really good experience for him because he'll realize how important it is to hold his tongue sometimes or take a minute to ask himself what he's arguing about and whether it's really worth it to say something. Don't worry, I'll get back to him and he'll be right as rain soon. He might even regret it enough that he'll ask you to be his girl again." Then he saw the look on her face and said quickly, "but that's another matter."

Pulling her into another hug, he gave her a smile and turned to leave. She watched him walk out the door and walked slowly out after him, but when she made it to the teachers' lounge it was empty and he had already gone. She entered Snape's room and went to sit beside the bed in the chair. She pointed her wand at the duplicate chair and it moved a ways away from hers so that any other guests Severus had—though she doubted there would be any—could have their space. He was awake and watching her the entire time.

She took a moment to try and grasp everything that had happened the night before and that morning, and tried to understand the crippling discovery that Severus was going to live. She remembered how she had answered without hesitation when McGonagall had asked if she would continue to care for Severus, and found herself thinking, _hmm, maybe Dumbledore knew exactly what he was doing when he told the headmistress to ask me to become Severus' nurse . . ._

Her book bag was still under the bedside table and she used magic to clean the cloth there and tucked it back into her beaded bag. She took out the book of muggle fairytales and began carefully looking through worn pages for the one she wanted. She looked up in surprise when Severus said, "Grimm. I recognize the name."

Hermione nodded, though she was quite shocked that he had paid any attention to what she was doing. "They were brothers, wizards who lived with the muggles. They recorded all of the muggle fairytales and put them in this book."

He nodded. "And you like muggle fairytales?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes."

"Why? They're nothing but confused rubbish, often involving incorrect information about magic." He raised one eyebrow, obviously not understanding why she would be interested in anything that held incorrect references to magic.

She actually laughed. It was the first time in a long time that she'd done that, and she couldn't believe it was Severus Snape who had brought it about. "I grew up with them. My mum used to read them to me before bed every night." She stopped, thoughts drifting to her childhood and then to her mother, who was now not even capable of reading.

Severus snorted and she came back to the present. "Have you a favorite of them?"

She nodded, wondering what had possessed him to ask about her favorite story, especially out of a collection of muggle tales. "I've always loved Sleeping Beauty." Then she tilted her head to the side, thinking once again to happy memories from her childhood, and added, "But Beauty and the Beast is my second favorite."

Severus nodded, furthering her amazement that he would be even mildly interested in such matters. No, furthering her amazement that he had even given it a _second_ _glance_. Deciding to tease him just because she could, she said in a girlish voice, "Oh, should I read them to you?!"

She was completely shocked when he just managed to raise his shoulders in a slight shrug and turned to look at the ceiling. "Wait a minute," she insisted, "I'm serious."

"As am I."

"But you never said anything!" she said, staring at him incredulously.

"I believe I just did." He turned and looked at her, his stare even and neither cold nor warm.

"What?"

He actually chuckled. "Considering the fact that I have no other option to keep myself busy and you are the only form of entertainment here, I suppose I ought to accept your offer."

Hermione was for a moment too surprised to answer. "I could read a potion book or something by Beedle the Bard . . ." she began slowly.

He said, "No, I'm curious to know what you think is so fascinating and wondrous about a muggle story."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and looked at him for a moment. Was she losing her mind? Was the old bat of the dungeons actually being kind to her? Respectful, even? Or had she just spent so much time around him—even without him speaking—that she was used to his usual behavior and had learned to detect kind things hidden within the cold and cruel ones? Blinking as she came back to what was before her, she reopened the book in her lap, which she had dropped when Severus shocked her with his words.

She glanced up at him over the top of the book, and watched as he looked at the wall beneath the clock across from the bed. Then she lowered her gaze to the words on the page and began reading Sleeping Beauty. She began with the famous words so loved in the muggle world: "Once upon a time . . ."

A few hours later Hermione was putting down the book and setting a bookmark between the pages to hold her place when Severus said that he wanted some water. She held the cup to his lips, and realized that it was much more awkward to feed him and let him drink when he was completely awake and capable of speaking. But they managed to ignore it. Just before she opened the book to continue, the door could be heard opening and closing. Hermione set the book back in her book bag and glanced at Severus out of the corner of her eye. He was surprising her more and more as the day went on; first he'd accepted when she offered to read_ muggle _fairytales, and now he hadn't interrupted the story with a complaint once, and had only just interrupted for the first time because he wanted _water_ and not because he was objecting to something related to the story. And unless she was dreaming, he was actually listening and letting himself get into the story. Hermione was still wondering if she was going insane when the headmistress stepped into the bedroom and two trays floated in with her.

One tray set itself on the bedside table and one on the edge of the bed. Severus looked particularly relieved to see that there was a small piece of soft bread and a cup of actual, water-free pumpkin juice with his gruel, which also looked like normal, unaltered food. Hermione's tray held a full meal, and she noticed Severus' eyes dart in the direction of the steaming bowl of soup there. McGonagall took a moment to look over the two of them and saw Hermione smiling and that Severus was actually not scowling for once. His scowl returned quickly enough, and Hermione could have sworn he sent the headmistress a glare, perhaps even because she had interrupted the story. She left rather quickly and Hermione fed Severus, and when he was finished she set his tray under hers and took up the book, nibbling on her own food while she continued to read.

That night they had nearly finished the book. Dinner was over, and Severus had seemed rather annoyed at its interruption of the reading yet again. Hermione was sure she must be hallucinating. She stopped reading at eight o'clock and he closed his eyes as she put the book back in her bag. He had glared murderously at Archibald when he came the several times during the day for the bathroom visits, and Hermione knew the man thought Severus was just feeling a bit humiliated by his helplessness. Hermione had let him believe what he wanted, not really feeling like explaining that Severus seemed to be enjoying her reading of Sleeping Beauty.

She rose from her chair and looked back over everything. She had tucked her wand and her beaded bag back in her robes and started to leave. She turned before stepping out of the bedroom and said, "Goodnight, Sir," into the darkness, as she had darkened the orbs completely. She left his quarters and went back to her own, where she enjoyed a hot bath and curled up in her own bed for the first time in weeks. It actually felt strange for her not to be curling up in her chair, and she tossed and turned and took quite a while before she was comfortable and could fall asleep. She had strange dreams all night and woke in the morning with the scenes from several of the most unusual still hovering behind her sleepy eyes.

Going to the bathroom, she brushed her hair and actually put on a bit of makeup. Brushing her teeth, she realized that true to McGonagall's words the day before, she did actually have some colour back in her cheeks and she looked less tired and worn than only two days before. Flashing a smile at herself in the mirror as she thought about what Harry had said about Severus' reason for possibly alienating her in the future, she left the bathroom and sat on the edge of her bed, snatching her wand and beaded bag and scratching Crookshanks behind the ears before she stood and left her rooms for the day.

She entered Severus' room and sat to wait until he woke up. He drank some water after he woke and she'd lit the floating orbs on the ceiling, and then she sat back and looked at him as she picked up the book of muggle stories. She opened to the place they'd left off and went back into reading. She'd never read aloud to anyone before, especially not a fairytale story. Trying to put animation into her voice and not to speak in a monotone had been a challenge for her so far, but she was getting better.

Archibald came shortly after they had begun and Severus seemed a bit more tolerant of his interruption this time. When they were back from the bathroom McGonagall had left breakfast. Hermione fed him and again ate while she read. They finished Sleeping Beauty only a matter of minutes after that, and Hermione closed the book and set it down, looking up. "Well?" she asked.

"What?" His voice was still clipped and cold, but not quite as biting as it had been when he was angry with her all those weeks before.

"What did you think?" Hermione specified.

"The story was acceptable."

"That's it?"

He turned and looked at her. "That's it." Seeing the unsatisfied look on her face, he added, "It _is_ understandable why muggle children would be so enchanted by the idea, after hearing the way you read it."

Hermione was surprised. "How did I read it?"

"As if you were still an enchanted little girl who believed every word she was reading."

Hermione didn't know whether to be pleased or offended by his verdict. On one hand she did still feel like a little girl who was enchanted by the story, but on the other she wanted to sound a bit more mature than that. Deciding that it really didn't matter, she nodded, not really agreeing but thinking of other things.

They were silent for quite a while and then Hermione picked up the book again. Severus had always been unafraid to voice his opinions and if he wanted her to stop reading, he would say as much. So she started reading Beauty and the Beast.

"I'll have you know," he said that night when they had finished the story, "this is not what I saw myself spending my summer doing."

Hermione laughed out loud. She couldn't help it. Severus Snape had managed to say something humorous. He actually chuckled with her. She wondered if perhaps the dark mark's ailments had caused problems with his mental health. She went to her own rooms, thinking over the day's events with a satisfied smile on her face. And before she left his room, she told the darkness, "Goodnight, Sir," once again. It just seemed rude to get up, turn out the lights, and walk away without a word. He had yet to respond, and when they weren't talking about the muggle stories he was still just as cold and cruel as before, which left Hermione a sense of peace and she was able to believe that he was perhaps still in his right mind.

That night she bathed again and actually fell asleep while soaking in the hot water. She woke up sometime past midnight and laughed sleepily at herself as she climbed out and dried off, pulling on her pajamas before using her wands to turn out the lights and stumbling to bed, half asleep before she even hit the mattress. She wasn't even awake enough to glance at the clock and see what time it was. She drew the curtains around the bed, and Crookshanks who had been sleeping in her bed with her, curled up in the small of her back, as she slept on her stomach.

Over the next few days, they finished all of the stories in the muggle book and when it was over Severus had plenty of not-so-kind comments about it. Then the conversation turned to classes, which would start in three months, and they discussed lesson plans. Severus continued to insist, "Weasley and Potter were the worst students I ever had to deal with."

Hermione grinned when she asked, "What about Neville?"

"Longbottom," Severus sneered, "Is so far beneath even the worst description of a student that he is in a different placing altogether.

"I see," Hermione said, holding back a laugh.

"You were just as terrible as Potter and Weasley at times," Severus continued, "don't think I never knew how many times you helped Longbottom with his potions. He ruined every one he brewed, but you managed to coach him well enough with whispers behind my back to keep most of his concoctions from exploding and harming any of the students."

Hermione couldn't keep a laugh from escaping when he said this. He said it in a very unkind way, but the bit of truth in his words and the fact that he was looking back on teaching Neville, Harry, Ron and her was something that made her smile.

He saw her laughing and rolled his eyes. "And McGonagall informed me my first day here from Saint Mungo's that he plans on returning to take the position of Herbology teacher," he said, scowling. "There'll be a dead student from infant mandrakes within a week of the first of September, I guarantee it."

"Neville might not have been so great with potions . . . or transfiguration . . . or charms . . . or history of magic . . . or- never mind. He was excellent at Herbology from his first year and now he's going to take over, but no worries; he's not starting until next year. He's trying his hand at being an auror with Harry and Ron first," Hermione defended her friend.

"An auror," Snape spat, "He'll kill one of the others or someone from our side—if not himself—within the first three days."

Hermione cleared her throat indignantly. "He has been working with some of the best aurors in the Ministry since the battle here and he's not killed anyone yet! He was involved in the captures of several of the death eaters, too, and no one's dead. And he's the one who killed Nagini."

She didn't know how she expected Severus to react at the mention of the snake who had nearly killed him. But he didn't react. He rolled his eyes again. "Longbottom would be better off teaching Herbology than trying to cast defensive spells and save the world," he said with a scowl. Hermione only shook her head, knowing that further argument and more harsh words from Snape were all that could follow if she said anything more on the subject.

Then the same small female house elf who had summoned Hermione to the headmistress' office about a week before apparated into the bedroom again. Hermione left for McGonagall's office and arrived shortly. She stepped onto the slowly rising spiral staircase and knocked before entering. She sat down, looking over towards the fireplace, where the flames were green. Seeing her glance that way, McGonagall said, "Kingsley's just flooed back to the Ministry." Then she sat down behind the desk and faced Hermione. "Now, I called you here to tell you that there has been a mass number of deaths in Azkaban in the past two days. The dark mark has finally succeeded and ended their suffering."

Hermione's mind whirled as she pictured the faces of multiple death eaters who she knew had fled the battle at Hogwarts and she wondered who was dead. The image of the Malfoys' sneering faces seemed to stick in her mind.

As if she read Hermione's thoughts, McGonagall said, "It seems that Lucius and Draco Malfoy were weaker and nearer to death than Narcissa. And, she seems to have come to the conclusion that you did and been bathing them with a wet cloth. And, as you did, she cried over them for fear of their quickly-approaching and seemingly imminent death. Now, they are recovering as Severus is and it seems that in giving her tears, Narcissa was cured as well. She, as the giver of the tears and perhaps because she was less affected by the dark mark's retribution than her husband and son, is healthier than they and able to take care of them though very weak and still recovering herself.

"The Malfoys are the only death eaters who besides Severus are expected to survive, as none of the rest of them have anyone who would care enough to shed a tear over their coming deaths." When she finished she searched Hermione's face.

Hermione didn't know what to feel. She was still angry with Draco for becoming a death eater and participating in Voldemort's plans, but she also understood that his family's survival had depended on his actions and he had done what he had to in order to get them out of such a situation. He and his family had also refrained from participating in the battle at Hogwarts, so she couldn't hold that against them either. Overall, she found that she felt a bit relieved that the Malfoy family would survive this strange destruction of all the still-living death eaters, and also slightly annoyed. But more relieved than anything.

She returned to Severus' quarters and gave him the news, and he seemed neither relieved nor upset by the news. He simply grunted and stayed silent. Hermione read him a page of potion instructions from one of the volumes on the shelves in his study and went to bed that night with knowledge of a new potion she'd never heard of before. Severus had listened to her read and then asked her questions as if he was teaching, wanting to know how much she'd absorbed. Then he lectured her for a short while as he had often done to the entire class of students when she was back in school.

Hermione found it strange but comforting to have him lecturing and quizzing her again, even if he did fit some rather cruel, unkind remarks from past times they'd shared into his imitation lesson. He called her an "Insufferable know-it-all," and several other names that he had used to insult her in the years when she was his student. But she was finding his comments and remarks less and less aggravating and hurtful and more to laugh about as she remembered those beloved days when she had attended Hogwarts as a student, wondering what new memories she would make as a teacher in the coming year.

**Here it is! The big chapter! What do you think? Leave a review and tell me whether you liked it, hated it, were suprised, already saw that coming, or had something else in mind! Thanks again for reading! I'll try to get another chapter up tomorrow or sometime in the next few days! All my love! ~Taelr**


	10. Saint Mungo's

Hermione bit her lip as she sat down, glancing beside her at Severus, who was the same potions master she'd once seen when she was in school. She smiled wryly down at her empty plate and began serving herself when food appeared on the table. It was mid-August, and the past three months had been the most strenuous and exhausting she'd ever experienced. Severus was now almost completely recovered. He was living alone in his bedroom again, and Hermione was sleeping in her room and doing other things than watching over him every day. He walked on his own up to the Great Hall for meals and moved from place to place within the castle as he liked and as he once had, though he still spent much time down in his office and in the potions classroom.

It had been a long three months and his recovery had come slowly, which had caused him to be furious and frustrated with himself. His mood swings had become terrible and almost unbearable, but now those were gone and Hermione didn't have to deal with them anymore. Things were as they should be, and she was with Severus and all of the other members of the staff at the table in the Great Hall. The school was now completely restored, and Hermione had been able to participate in the last bit of work after Severus was no longer on the mend. He hadn't alienated her yet, which she found to be a pleasant surprise. Of course, she didn't spend much time with or around him anymore now that she was no longer his nurse and caretaker, but he didn't go out of his way to ignore or avoid her and she was relieved that there was no awkwardness between them. She had become accustomed to his presence after so long spent with him every day, and was now undoing that bit by bit and day by day, getting used to living alone and in her own bedroom again.

Now she had the time to visit her new office and her classroom, and she immensely enjoyed setting up the office and walking around the classroom where she had once learned and would now be teaching. It was fresh and exciting and she was anticipating the first day of term. She had been writing to and receiving regular letters from Harry, who told her all the details of his and Ron's Dementor hunts. Neville had joined them and made it a trio just the beginning of that month and it sounded as if Harry and Ron were rather enjoying his company. Harry didn't say all that much about Ron, but he hinted subtly that the freckled, red-haired boy was missing Hermione and would probably try to make up when he saw her again. Hermione didn't mind the idea of making up, but she didn't want to be more than friends.

She had been studying transfiguration again and was realizing that though she did still love Ron as a friend, they had grown apart and he was, at the present, not the kind of person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She decided that if she did get married or find someone, then he had to be witty and smart and enjoy reading the way that she did. She needed someone who was very alike to her and wasn't holding her back, and looking back, she felt that Ron had somewhat altered her by making her a bit more carefree. While that was nice at times, she wanted to go back to being the Hermione Granger who had first stepped into Hogwarts almost seven years before; intelligent and a bit of a nerd and living in a world where books held all the answers. Of course she could be a bit more open-minded than she had been in the past, but she figured teaching would help her hold both of those things.

Things had settled down since the repairs to the school were finished. The Ministry witches and wizards had left, Kingsley had come and been given a tour by McGonagall and Flitwick, and several of the other teachers had returned from their summer holidays to prepare for the beginning of school. Professor Sprout, Professor Trelawney, and Filch were only a few of the group. Hermione was happy to see them and they were extremely pleased to find that she had taken the job of transfiguration teacher. As soon as they saw her they were saying things like, "I always knew you were going to do something great for Hogwarts as a teacher someday," and, "Oh, dear, it's so wonderful to have you back with us! My favorite student, back as a colleague!"

Comments such as these were still ringing in her ears as she walked towards the teachers' lounge with the majority of other staff members. It wasn't really very late but now that dinner was over, unless they had something specific to do they were headed towards their own rooms. Hermione entered the lounge after everyone else and watched as Sprout and Flitwick sat down in two of the chairs and began discussing something. The rest of the staff dispersed and disappeared into their quarters, and Hermione walked towards her own door. She turned when the lounge door opened again and glanced over her shoulder to see who it was. The black cloak and robes billowed darkly behind Severus and then he was gone behind the door with the doe carved in its front. Turning back to her door and wondering why she had even turned to watch Severus as he passed, she stepped into her own rooms and went to sit on the couch in the study.

As soon as she had sat Crookshanks jumped onto her lap and curled up, rubbing his head against her arm and purring when she petted him absentmindedly. She had glanced to the corner of the room where the desk stood, and noticed that her book bag was on the floor beside it, leaning against the dark wood. It was the book bag that she had used throughout her school years to haul her own personal library from class to class and then from the library back to her own dormitory or the Gryffindor common room. But her school memories weren't the ones that surfaced when she looked at the book bag. Instead she found herself remembering sitting beside Severus' bed and reading to herself while he ranted about being unable to do as he liked, and before that, when she had read him muggle fairytales and he had actually listened.

But the most detailed, sharpest memory was of her sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning over him with a wet cloth in hand, bathing his fevered skin and crying. And then there had been whispered apologies that she could only assume had come from her own lips and suddenly she found herself closing her eyes and reliving the memory; _leaning back off of the bed and setting the cloth on the bedside table as she sat back in her chair. Staring at Severus—_Snape, as she had thought of him then_—in the golden half-glow that was coming from the floating orbs on the ceiling. Looking down at her book bag and wondering how many times she'd read through every book within and found herself not absorbing a single word. _

And then she opened her eyes and she was back in her own study, not in Severus' room. He had recovered and was living without assistance and she was back in her own rooms. Shaking her head to clear it, she scratched Crookshanks behind the ears and stared at the fire in the hearth. She didn't know how long she sat there, lost in her thoughts, before she picked up the cat and walked, half asleep, to her bed. There she curled up under the sheets and blankets and didn't bother to close the curtains around the bed. Crookshanks curled up against her back, though she was sleeping on her side tonight, and both of them slept soundly until morning.

The next day at breakfast Hermione noticed Severus' absence from the table, and wondered where he must be and why he was missing the meal. Her attention was diverted when several owls flew in and circled the table as usual, but two of them landed in front of her rather than only one. Hedwig was there, shifting her weight back and forth between her feet and looking like she was ready to fly again. And then there was a small owl that was running in circles around her cup of pumpkin juice and twittering madly. Hermione was shocked; she hadn't seen Pigwidgeon in months. She untied the envelope from Hedwig's leg and offered her a piece of her muffin and the bird nibbled at it before taking flight. Pigwidgeon was still running around, and Hermione had to catch him and hold him still with one hand while untying the envelope with the other. The envelope itself was the size of the owl, and she wondered how he had possibly gotten to Hogwarts with it.

As soon as it was free, she let him go and he fluttered into the air and away. Hermione watched him go and then looked down at the two envelopes. She opened Harry's and it was short but informative, and she always loved hearing from him. She made a mental note to write him back later that day and folded the parchment, placing it back in the envelope, which she tucked inside of her robes. Then she looked at Ron's envelope. She had the fleeting mental image of the time Ron had received a howler from his mother after he and Harry had driven Arthur Weasley's flying car to Hogwarts and crashed into the Whomping Willow on the grounds. The stunt had earned them quite a bit of trouble with the staff and plenty of fame among the students.

She picked up the envelope and opened it, unfolding the parchment and beginning to read. She hadn't gotten far when she began to blink rapidly, though no one else at the table took notice. Tears began welling up in her eyes and she blinked even more than before, wiping away the liquid that was slipping out of her eyes. She rose from her seat, though she had eaten nothing, and wiped her tears, turning to McGonagall, who was seated on her left, and saying, "Excuse me," before turning her back on the table. She walked quickly but with composure until she was out of the Great Hall. Once she had turned the corner, she began to run and let the tears fall down her cheeks. She hadn't even finished reading Ron's letter and here she was, crying and running blindly, trusting her feet to take her where she wanted to go as she fled towards her room.

Her sobs and faltering, loud breaths bounced and echoed off the walls and through the corridors, but she didn't care; no one in the Great Hall could hear her from this far away. She turned a corner and kept her head bent, still crying and still running when she collided with something large and dark. And hard. She would have fallen backwards from the impact but whoever she had collided with acted quickly and reached out, grabbing her before she could fall. His or her force when they grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back towards them was too much and she ended up colliding with them again, though this time much more gently. Sniffing as she wiped away her tears, she leaned back and looked up. She took two very surprised steps back when she found herself looking up at Severus.

He looked just as surprised as she was, though a frown creased his brow. His eyes flicked down at Hermione's hand, where Ron's letter was being crushed into a crumpled ball beneath her clenched fingers. "I- I'm sorry, Sir," Hermione stammered, having not expected to meet anyone on her way to her rooms, let alone run directly into them. She was afraid he'd be terribly angry for a moment, and then realized that she was a staff member and he couldn't put her in detention. She almost laughed out loud at the thought and caught herself just in time. Her emotions were all over the place after reading Ron's letter, and she couldn't trust herself for fear of doing something stupid and on impulse because of it.

"It is," he looked over her, and she was sure she must be quite a sight as a result of her headlong dash from the Great Hall and her tears, "no matter," he continued, "as it seems you were in a hurry for most"—he paused and his eyes fell again on Ron's letter—"urgent and unusual . . . but valid . . . reasons."

Sniffing again, Hermione nodded once and then made her way past him, circling around him and facing him because he was still watching her. "Th- thank you, Sir," she said as she did.

Once she had turned away he too began to walk away and he said over his shoulder, "Hmm, as I said, no matter. And I believe I told you to call me Severus."

Hermione stopped, shocked, and turned, but he continued to walk away, cloak billowing darkly behind him. She made it to her rooms a few moments later and sank down on the edge of her bed, Ron's letter momentarily forgotten. There in the corridor was the closest she'd been to Severus since he was under her care, and it had brought her to remember another detail from her memories of caring for him that she seemed to have completely forgotten; his scent.

Even after being on the floor of the shrieking shack and then in Saint Mungo's for as long as he had, when he'd come to Hogwarts he still smelled lightly of herbs and ingredients, of potions. Now that smell on him was much stronger, as he'd been around his classroom and office and had been brewing potions since he was recovered. But there had been a stronger smell when he was under her care and she was so close to him then, and it was still there now; a scent all his own. If people had their own personal scents, then this would be his.

Though it was mostly masked by the potion and spice smell about him when Hermione had collided with him, she had caught it and it had unlocked, in every memory of nursing him, the detail of what he had smelled like. In his own rooms all those weeks, the potion smell still clung to him faintly, but his own smell had been there all along. Hermione realized that at the times when she was leaning over Severus to bathe or feed him, she had much more important things on her mind than what he smelled like. But now, looking back and remembering, his smell had been one of the biggest things she'd grown accustomed to while staying by his side night and day.

She rather liked the way Severus smelled; not just his own smell, but the potion ingredients as well. She thought it strange, how she'd become so used to something she hadn't even really been aware of. And now she found herself missing it, longing for it even. The image of her burying her nose in his cloak or something that smelled like him burned momentarily in her mind, but she forced it away quickly and blinked, shaking her head as she tried to clear it. What was she doing, daydreaming about smelling the potions master's cloak?

For the first time since she'd run into Snape, she remembered why she'd come back to her own quarters without eating in the first place. She smoothed Ron's crushed and crumpled note and reread what she already had before going on. This time she was able to read it all of the way through without a single sniff or tear. But what she was reading was more insane than anything. Ron had written an entire page, the most Hermione had ever known him to write that wasn't homework. The first bit hadn't been unnecessarily unkind, but compared to the rest it was like a proclamation of undying love; the rest of the page explained that he hadn't told Harry, but had visited Lavender Brown the week before and found his love for her rekindled. He then said that he'd asked her to marry him and that the wedding would be the following summer. Also, Hermione wasn't invited to come, though all of her friends, including Harry, were. There were plenty of unkind comments and childishly cruel references and allusions to some of her past mistakes or failures, but surprisingly, she found them quite funny.

She laughed out loud. This was absurd. Ron couldn't just up and marry Lavender! It just didn't seem like it would work. Hermione knew he had done it to make her jealous and miserable but she was neither. Instead she sincerely felt sorry for lavender and hoped that perhaps Ron had moved on and really did like Lavender and wasn't using her. If he was just using her Hermione hoped that Lavender would see what was happening and stop it before the wedding, at best even before they had announced the "happy" news.

Shaking her head, she crumpled the note again and threw it at the wall, sighing and rolling her eyes at the antics of teenage boys when they thought they could make a girl jealous. She had seen Harry at it during their school years, and now here Ron was, trying his hand at it as well though it was definitely not working. Crookshanks jumped up onto the bed beside her and walked around her, rubbing against her as he did. She laughed and looked down at him. "Men," she said and shook her head at the cat. He jumped off the bed, apparently offended by her remark, but she found his behavior more amusing than anything else.

She went and answered the door when there was a knock. It was the headmistress, and she looked Hermione up and down as soon as the door was open. "May I come in?"

Hermione nodded and held the door wide open to let her in. She realized that she hadn't yet made it to the bathroom to fix herself and she was probably not looking much better than when she'd been sobbing and running down corridors and halls. The older witch looked concerned. "Are you quite alright? You left the Great Hall without eating anything and in a great hurry."

Hermione shrugged and walked over to the wall, picking up the crumpled piece of parchment and holding it out to the headmistress. "Here," she said, "It's from Ron."

Understanding and caution dawned on the older woman's face and she took the note, smoothing it as Hermione had done and reading it twice before looking up at Hermione with her eyebrows raised. Hermione shrugged again. "We had a row the day he and Harry showed up here when Severus was dying." She ignored the thoughts of the potions master's smell that rose in her mind and pushed them away, continuing, "We ended it and he left in a real huff. Now he's trying to have his revenge and make me jealous."

McGonagall's eyebrows rose even higher. "And is his plan working?"

Hermione laughed. A smile actually lit on her face. "No, I actually find it quite the joke to laugh at." Seeing the skeptical look on McGonagall's face, she added, "I was a bit shocked at the table earlier and needed some time to read the rest of it and think it over. Now I'm just fine, only worried about Lavender."

The headmistress smiled and said, "She might not have been as bright as you in school but my guess is that she'll figure out his true intentions without trouble and before much time has passed."

Hermione nodded. Then the headmistress smiled and said, "Men and the things they'll do when it comes to women."

They laughed again and Hermione shook her head in agreement. Then McGonagall turned to the door and said, "Well, I was just concerned about your wellbeing. Seeing that you are fine, I'll go and tell Pomona; she is quite worried about you."

Hermione nodded and smiled, and after the headmistress had left she shook her head and looked towards Crookshanks, who appeared to have forgiven her. "One little thing and they think I'm going to die. And after all I've been through? A war, friends dying, my best friend defeating the most dangerous dark wizard ever to live, and then the life of the man I saved being threatened. And they think that something like this can seriously hurt me?"

The cat meowed in agreement and Hermione went to sit on the couch with him. She brought her notes on transfiguration and went over them again as she petted Crookshanks. She turned the page and a piece of parchment fell out. She picked it up and looked over it. It was her notes from the days when Severus had lectured her on potions while he was still too weak to feed himself and lying in bed all day and all night. She shook her head as she read her notes, scribbled quickly to keep up with his words, but still kept neat as she had always made sure to do. At the thought of the potions master, she thought of his smell again and stared at the page, though it was more as if she were staring through it because her eyes became unfocused and she was seeing things that weren't there in the room with her.

Forcing herself to snap out of it, she stood up, and the cat—which had been sleeping—yowled as he was thrown off of her lap. She set her notes back in the book bag and was sure to direct her thoughts elsewhere as she did, but the faintest image of the bag resting under Severus' bedside table still burned in her mind's eye. Blowing her hair out of her face—it had come lose from where she had tied it back—she went and brought the small shoebox full of treasures out from under it. She opened it and looked through the many tiny trinkets, each of which held some special memory for her. It was like reliving different parts of her life as she looked through them. That made her think of her parents, and she stood, placing the box back under the bed, and snatched her wand from the bedside table before she left her room.

Moments later she was talking to McGonagall in the headmistress' office. "Would it be alright for me to visit my parents today?"

The headmistress turned and looked to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, who looked pleased with Hermione's request. "Albus?" she asked.

The Albus within the frame turned his brilliant, penetrating blue eyes on Hermione and she looked at him hopefully. "Having heard your plans for the day and for the staff, Minerva," he said without turning to look at the headmistress, "I think it would be wise for Hermione to visit her parents before school starts."

"Of course," McGonagall said. She nodded to Hermione and said, "You may go whenever you like."

"Now?" Hermione asked, and the headmistress nodded again. Before she left the office, she glanced at Dumbledore again and thought she saw him flash a quick, knowing smile her way, though she got the distinct feeling that he wasn't smiling about her visiting her parents. She wondered what he _had_ smiled about, and turned away quickly when she felt color creeping into her cheeks as Severus' scent surfaced in her mind again.

With that, Hermione left the office and walked quickly to the entrance hall, through the courtyard and across the grounds until she reached the boundary point. Turning in place, she apparated to the place just outside the entrance to Saint Mungo's. She walked to the wing where her parents were, and stopped when she saw Neville's parents. She entered the room and stood between their beds, and they looked at her and smiled. "I don't think you can understand me," she said slowly and quietly, "But it's because of your son that Harry could kill the dark lord. Your son—Neville—he saved us all. He's the reason I'm alive."

They kept smiling at her, but she had the slightest impression of understanding in their eyes. "Hermione?" a familiar voice called from right behind her. It was the second time she'd run into Neville in this wing of the hospital. She turned around and looked at him. "Yes?"

"What're you doing?" his question was voiced kindly, but it was obvious he was a bit confused.

Hermione looked at him and said quietly, "Thanking them and telling them that they should be proud."

He didn't have to ask why they should be proud, but his eyes began to water. "You talked to them . . . like they could understand?"

Hermione nodded slowly, not understanding why he was tearing up as he asked. She was afraid for a moment that she'd offended him, but then a smile lit up his face and he let the tears fall over his cheeks. "Neville?" she asked, worried.

He shook his head, still smiling. "No one does that but me. Even Gran . . . she thinks they don't understand, see? And I always wanted to talk to them but I never could when Gran was around because she'd scold me for it. Now she's not here, and whenever I come, I talk to them."

Now Hermione's eyes were brimming with tears, too. It got worse when he asked, "Did they respond?"

She didn't have to ask what he meant; she knew he wasn't talking about them using words to communicate. She nodded, alluding to the understanding looks in their eyes, and he wiped his tears away and sniffed. "Thanks," he said. Hermione nodded and gave him a small smile before she walked over to where her parents were. They smiled at her, much as Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom had, and she found it in herself to smile back. She wiped away the moisture that had overflowed from her eyes, for the first time not brought to tears by the thought of talking to her parents and them not understanding. Neville had made it clear and brought about the realization that they could indeed understand, and were listening even now. Even if they didn't comprehend the meaning of the words she used, they would understand by her body language and the tone of voice when she spoke.

She sat down on the edge of her mum's bed and reached out to hold the hand of the woman who had raised her. "Hey, Mum," she said, smiling again. She could have sworn there was a greeting smiling back at her in her mother's kind eyes. She talked to her Mum specifically for a while, and then moved to her father's bed. She greeted him the same way, and just like her mother, she knew he was saying hello right back. When she had talked to him for a while she stood between their two beds and talked to them both for quite a while, telling them everything that had happened since she used the memory charm on them and they had moved. She did leave parts out—mostly those about Severus that she felt were personal—but gave them almost a completely honest report.

On the other side of the large room, Neville was talking animatedly to his parents about his job as an auror and what it was like being with Harry and Ron. Hermione stopped talking eventually, and just watched her parents as they gazed around the room, seemingly amazed by each thing they saw. And for the first time, she tried to see things the way that they did. Suddenly, every tiny detail of the room seemed fascinating and beautiful, and everything was so amazing and uncomprehendingly complex.

She didn't leave her parents until it was dark outside of the magical windows and the clock said it was after six o'clock. A healer came in and told her and Neville that it was time to leave, and they walked out of the ward together. He walked with her to the door, and asked, "Did McGonagall tell you that I'll be coming to Hogwarts to work as Sprout's apprentice for this school year before I take over next year?"

Hermione couldn't remember whether the headmistress had mentioned it or not; so many things had happened since she first got to Hogwarts and everything with Snape seemed to be contained in his room, as if none of the news from the outside world had made it inside or to Hermione. "I don't think she did tell me. Neville, that's great!" and she hugged him.

He blushed and asked, "Can I tell you something I never told anyone?"

Hermione looked at him. "That's up to you, but I promise I won't tell a soul if you don't want me to."

He smiled and said, "I trust you. But please don't tell anyone?"

She nodded.

He continued, "I think I've liked Luna since our third year at Hogwarts, and I think maybe it's time I asked her out?"

Hermione couldn't hold it in; she clapped her hands together and grinned at him. "Oh, yes! I think she's been waiting for you to do that for a while."

His face lit up with surprised pleasure as they stepped out onto the muggle street. "She has?"

Hermione nodded. "I have to go, or I'll be late for dinner"—she was just realizing she hadn't eaten at all that day—"but good luck with Luna! I'm sure she'll be delighted to accept!" and she turned, disapparating back to the school. She caught sight of his boyish, grinning face before everything went black, and then she was back on solid ground, just outside of the school grounds. Smiling as she walked back to the castle, she made it to the Great Hall just in time to see the food appearing on the table. She sat down and answered the few questions about visiting her parents, and mentioned that she'd seen Neville. At this, Pomona's eyes lit up and she asked, "Did he give you the news?"

Hermione nodded, smiling. He had given her more news than just his taking an apprenticeship at Hogwarts, and it was almost too much happiness for her to handle. As she ate, enjoying every bite of food, she couldn't believe that only that morning she'd run away from breakfast crying, while at the moment she could barely contain the giggle and childish grin that kept trying to creep onto her face.

She glimpsed Severus out of the corner of her eye, and he seemed to have caught on to the half-smile that was messing with her lips. She felt her cheeks flush and turned back to her food, not wanting him to see, though she knew he wouldn't know that her thoughts had drifted back to what he smelled like. Without meaning to, she found herself leaning her head on her hand with her elbow on the table as she sipped her pumpkin juice. She was leaning to the side, just a bit towards Severus, and when she inhaled after swallowing her juice she was convinced that she'd actually caught just a hint of his scent. Satisfied, even if she was just imagining things, she sat up straight again and finished eating with everyone else.

As the night before, the staff members left the table and headed for the teachers' lounge as a group, the majority of them leaving while only a few stayed to talk. Hermione walked a bit behind the group, occupied once more by thoughts of Neville. She caught the sight of billowing black fabric and looked up, realizing that she was walking not far behind Severus and Filius, who were deep in conversation over something or another. Hermione didn't hear anything they said, though, because she realized the reason she had subconsciously moved to walk behind Severus'. Just a teasing bit of his smell seemed to trail behind him momentarily before dispersing in the air, but she was close enough to catch his scent before it vanished while still far enough behind that no one would suspect anything, especially since she had her head down and appeared to be thinking.

She followed the others into the lounge and went to her door, once again watching Severus disappear into his own rooms. She walked to her bathroom, sighing. It wasn't the man she wanted, it was his smell. What a strange, absurd thought. Shaking her head and laughing at herself as she sank into the bathtub full of steaming water, she leaned back and let her thoughts settle, thinking of nothing and making sure to avoid further thought about Severus and the way he smelled.

She watched the steam swirling above her and as she had months before, she tried to find shapes and recognizable things in the silvery mist above her. She remembered the night that she had done this for the first time, and allowed herself to relive the memory of seeing Severus' silver doe as it bounded around the bathroom and in and out of the mist. Then she remembered coming to her senses and jumping out of the hot water, throwing on her clothes, and flying towards Severus' rooms. Clearing her mind of what that had led to because she knew which detail of the memories would quickly come to mind, she tried to find more shapes in the steam that was thickening in the air and making it hard to breathe.

She found an otter, and a stag, and Aberforth's goat even seemed to be running around. Then another silvery doe appeared, though she was sure that this one was only made of steam. And after the goat she saw Mrs. Weasley's weasel, Cho's swan, and several others. There were other shapes in the steam that weren't her friend's patronuses, too; she spotted what looked like a centaur, and then a dragon. Closing her eyes and blocking out the ever-changing shapes above and around her, she settled back on the water and thought over her talk with her parents. Yet again, she was very grateful to have Neville as a friend. She wondered when he would see Luna again and whether he'd have the courage to ask her then or he'd have to see her several times before he was able to do it. She thought of Harry and Ron, and remembered that she needed to write Harry back.

Deciding to do it in the morning, she climbed out of the bathtub and dried off, brushing her teeth and changing into her pajamas before she brushed her hair. She waved her wand from her bedroom and all of the orbs stopped giving light, though the fire still burned low. Then she let Crookshanks jump into the bed and drew the curtains around it. Curling up, she rested her fingers in the cat's long fur and fell asleep.

Her dreams were strange, and while she didn't recognize where she was most of the time, she was constantly enticed by the trace of a particular smell, and she was always searching, always trying to follow the trace to its source. She was running through some unfamiliar hallway when she sat up in bed and woke up. What could you call that? A nightmare? Or just a strange dream? Rubbing her eyes and hoping she wouldn't go back to wherever she'd been in her sleep, she lay down again and closed her eyes, drifting off once more.

Twice more she dreamed of strange places and the enticing smell, though in her dreams she never knew the source of the smell, only that she desperately needed to have whatever it came from close to her. Always when she woke she would know that it was Severus' scent and scold herself, though she had no control over her dreams. The third time she laid back down and fell asleep, it was for good and she didn't wake until morning. But while it was a peaceful dream, she woke up with her face pressed into her pillow and was haunted by the last image from her nightly-imaginings for the rest of the day; she'd had her face pressed into Severus' shirt, against his shoulder or his chest.

Blinking in the dim light that made it through the curtains around the bed, she asked herself how a dream could have felt so real and how she could possibly have enjoyed it so much. Now she was just frightened by the idea. But she'd never actually pressed her face against his chest or his shoulder, had she? Thinking back, she realized that she'd had her face against his chest for a split-second the day before when they collided and then for a few seconds longer when he pulled her back to keep her from falling backwards and hitting the ground. Had her mind memorized those few seconds and managed to make them into several hours of continuous imagining that she was in Severus' arms, and all while she was sleeping? Shaking her head and sighing deeply, Hermione promised herself that she would forget the dream and never think about it again; it was too disturbing.

Nodding to herself silently, she fell back onto her pillow and pulled the blankets over her head, closing her eyes and just lying there for a few minutes. She tried not to think about the dream, but it was there, in the back of her mind, and she was aware of it, but could only push it away and was unable to banish it completely.

**Hey all, thanks for reading! Please review if you have a moment or two! Also, for those of you who were wondering, this is the first time I have posted this story and am writing it as I go. If you saw a similar summary somewhere else on this sight then what can I say? Great minds think alike! But someone else wrote that story, not me! This is my first Snamione/Sevmione but so far you guys seem to like it! Thank you all once again for reading and sticking with me on this journey! I love you all! ~Taelr**


	11. Beautiful

Hermione shivered and pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. It was only the end of August, but the clouds above her and the large, heavy drops of cold water falling from them promised cold weather. She reached up and knocked on the great door before her, remembering when she'd been half as tall as she was now. A voice boomed, "Who's there?"

"It's me, Hagrid, Hermione!"

"Hermione?" The door opened and the half-giant's great form filled its frame. He took one look at her and grabbed her arm, pulling her inside and closing the door behind her. He had unintentionally lifted her off the ground and when he set her back down he patted her on the back, causing her to drop to her knees, though she stood up again quickly enough that he failed to notice. He pushed her into a chair at his large table and his great boarhound Fang came and set his head on her knees. Smiling, she petted his large head and looked up at Hagrid. She hadn't even heard Fang bark with the wind howling and the rain pelting down outside.

"What're yeh doin' here?" he asked, sitting down in another chair and making the entire building shake even more than the wind and rain had before.

"I needed to get away from the castle, and I realized I haven't come to visit you in a long time," she said, smiling at him again.

He grinned back, yellowed teeth showing through his tangled black beard as he nodded, looking pleased. "Yeah I missed yeh all this summer. How's ol' Snape doin?"

Hermione blinked in surprise. She had come with the intention of directing her thoughts away from the potions master. "S- Snape?" she stammered, looking as if she'd swallowed something awful.

Hagrid nodded, not noticing the expression on her face or the way she spoke. "How is he?"

"H- he's great," Hermione said slowly, "he's recovered completely and I- I don't see him much anymore."

Kind eyes looked at her from his wild hair. "Yeh see him at meals 'n such, don' yeh?"

Hermione nodded, not really knowing why she wasn't changing the subject, and said, "Yeah, I do . . ."

He set his elbows on the table and leaned forward, finishing, "But yer used to seein' him all 'o the time, ain't ye?"

Hermione blinked and said, "I- I suppose I am, yes."

"Yeh know," he said, tilting his head and staring at a dent in the table, "that ol' Snape's not as bad as most people think. He's a right ol' hero, 'Arry said."

Hermione nodded. She had no idea where this was coming from and why Hagrid was saying what he did, and she didn't want to find out where the conversation would go if they continued it. She abruptly changed the subject to Grawp, Hagrid's half-brother who was a full-blooded giant. He nodded and told her multiple stories about Grawp learning to talk and behave himself. Hermione was relieved at his excitement when he talked, and let him go on and on for a while. He eventually offered her hot water he'd boiled over the fire, and she took a mug of it, pretending to add flavoring—Hagrid's own recipe of herbs and spices—but leaving her water plain. The hot liquid was a comfort without flavor and she had learned long ago to eat Hagrid's cooking only when the alternative was death. Even then, death might be a better option at times.

They discussed classes, and teachers, Neville coming to be an apprentice—he was supposed to arrive the next day—more about Grawp, several of the different creatures living in the forbidden forest, and old times when she, Harry, and Ron had come to visit Hagrid. They talked for quite a while about memories, all of the way back to their first year, when it had all begun. Hagrid asked about her tearful exit from breakfast the day before and explained that she and Ron were no longer together and that he had written an unkind letter. She didn't mention that he and Lavender were engaged, because she knew Hagrid would fret over it and didn't want to give him too much to worry about. "I'm fine now, though," she finished. He nodded thoughtfully.

"Have you forgiven 'im?" he asked at last.

"Yes, but he doesn't know it yet because I haven't seen him. But I suppose he and Harry might come with Neville to say goodbye and visit me while they're here, and I can tell him then." Seeing the hopeful look on his large face, she added, "But I'm not interested in being anything more than friends. When we're friends we can make it, but when we're a couple . . . we just seem to have row after row. I don't like it. We get along better with Harry there, and we were always fine as best friends and nothing more."

Hagrid's face fell a bit at this, but he nodded. "I s'pose you're right. Well," he looked out the window, "We ought to get back then; I reckon dinner's 'bout to start."

Hermione nodded and they rose from their seats. She patted Fang on the head and pulled out her wand as Hagrid threw a large, hairy coat over his massive shoulders. Cleaning Fang's drool from the front of her robes, she tucked her wand away again and walked with Hagrid to the door. He threw it open and the wind and rain hit them immediately. It was very cold, and Hermione was drenched almost immediately. She pulled her hood over her head and walked behind Hagrid, who was like a wall and blocked the weather from hitting her with its full force. She followed him up to the castle and he closed the door in behind them. They stopped in the entrance hall and Hermione kindly turned to Hagrid with her wand and dried his clothes. He grinned at her gratefully while she dried her own.

They looked up when the headmistress and Pomona Sprout walked into the hall and turned, smiling to look at the gamekeeper and the transfiguration teacher before they entered the Great Hall. Hermione had just pulled her hood from her head and was drying her soaked hair and following Hagrid into the Great Hall when she caught sight of black behind her and realized that Severus was following them. Sighing to herself in annoyance at the sudden urge to turn and look at him, she made herself walk to the table and take her seat without glancing back once. Hagrid sat across the table from her in his regular seat, and only a second later Severus was in his place beside her.

The food appeared and they began to eat, most of them making conversation. Only Hermione and Severus were silent. This was quite normal for him, but Hermione seemed to have missed quite a few meals lately so her own quiet demeanor went unnoticed. She found herself subconsciously leaning Severus' direction multiple times during the meal, and was constantly reprimanding her own unknowing actions. Wishing she knew what went on in the potion master's mind while he was eating in silence, she turned back to her food and forced herself to remain sitting straight and not leaning one way or another for the rest of the meal.

She didn't know what was going on in Severus' mind, but it was in truth quite a lot. He failed to notice her leaning towards him for what it really was, though he was completely aware of every move she made because though it had been months since the war, he was still paranoid and constantly vigilant after his recent years of deception and caution with the dark lord. He saw when she leaned on one elbow, and then when she leaned down to brush something off of the hem of her cloak, and then again when she leaned slightly in his direction when she looked past him to ask someone a question. All he saw was a fidgety young woman who would eventually learn to sit still but as of the moment seemed unable to.

But he had noticed something in the entrance hall, and it was the reason for much thought at the moment. When he had entered and followed the half-giant and her into the Great Hall, Hermione had noticed his presence and stiffened considerably, though she did not turn and look at him. Perhaps she felt awkward after their encounter in the corridor the day before? But why had she been fine at dinner then? Severus could not piece together why she had been so upset in the morning, and then so happy and even _smiling_ at dinner. And then at breakfast that morning she'd been tense, but not upset. Lunch had been like breakfast, and now she couldn't sit still but had tensed as soon as she knew he was walking behind her.

But it wasn't her actions that unsettled him most; when he'd walked into the entrance hall, Hermione and Hagrid had been facing the door to the Great Hall and he had approached from their side, though their attention was diverted and they failed to see him then. Hermione had lifted her hands and pushed the hood of her cloak back from her head and let it fall back over her shoulders with her hair, which, in the storm outside, had been soaked. What Severus found most disturbing was that he had expected to see her face as usual when she removed the hood, but when he'd first seen her after her face was uncovered, her cheeks had been flushed from the cold, her hair had been wet and dark with several curls framing her face, and she'd had a half-smile, half-smirk on her lips.

It was the same Hermione Granger he'd expected to see, and yet . . . different somehow. He had seen her looking almost exactly that way before, except for the smirk on her lips, only once; when she'd come to his aid the night he collapsed and when the dark mark had first begun to hurt him. He had collapsed and closed his eyes, having spent the last bit of his energy on conjuring a patronus. The next thing he remembered was being rolled gently onto his back, opening his eyes, and looking up into Hermione's face. Then, just as it had been tonight, her hair had been dripping wet, her cheeks flushed from running, and her lips set in a concerned line. Seeing her look exactly that way again had made something in Severus' gut twist, and he had, for a fleeting moment, relived memories of her leaning over him and bathing him with a wet cloth, memories of her crying and whispering broken, hoarse apologies, memories of her looking at him with so much regret and pain in her eyes while he lay dying . . . Severus had forced himself to stop.

He had tried to forget those memories, not allowed himself to relive them or think over them. And seeing Hermione looking that way once again had, for a fleeting moment, impressed one word in his mind; _beautiful_. It was the memories and the word that had disturbed him. They were the reason he kept stealing glances at the young woman beside him and telling himself to forget this as well. He had been too shocked to think when she'd come careening around a corner and run into him, and had only just enough time to grab her and pull her back so she didn't fall. But he had acted so fast that his movement wasn't calculated and he had unintentionally pulled her against him. Then he had been so shocked and surprised that he didn't push her back or step away himself, and had only stared down at her. She had looked up and stepped back, but had stood in his arms for maybe three seconds.

And now those three seconds were haunting him. Those, along with the experience in the entrance hall, were too much and he was trying to make sense of why his eyes suddenly felt so drawn to Hermione. And why was he suddenly noticing the way the light played on her unruly brown curls and made her skin seem to glow, how her eyes were the color of milk chocolate, and how her slender fingers played with the fork in her hand as she ate? And then she was laughing at something someone had said and it played like music in his ears and stayed in his memory. Why had he noticed how beautiful her laugh was? And why was he noticing now how simply brilliant her smile was when her teeth showed and her lips curled?

Rising suddenly, he nodded to the others and said, "I've a potion brewing that requires my attention," before walking away from the table. As he turned to exit the Great Hall, he glanced over his shoulder and saw that Hermione was watching him go. He stormed to the dungeon and his familiar classroom, and began to pace. No. He would not let her do this to him. It was wrong. All wrong. He was a teacher, and she a student.

_She's not a student anymore, _he thought. But then he was reasoning with himself, battling his own thoughts, all inside his head. _It's still wrong. She's hardly considered an adult in the wizard world, and not yet in the muggle world. _He argued with himself for several moments.

At last the other voice—which he knew was his own—stopped and he took a moment to breathe, still pacing. He would not let this happen. There was nothing. He felt nothing for her. In fact, he was _angry_ with her for saving him. No, that wasn't true. He had stopped being upset with her when she saved him again and showed that she actually cared and didn't want to torture him. But this, this was absurd. Perhaps she cared whether he lived or died. Perhaps. But those feelings were only there inside of her because she had saved him once and didn't want him to die. And now that he was recognized to her and Potter as a hero, of course she wanted him to live. There was nothing there inside of her. She felt nothing for him.

Satisfied with his own argument, he sat down behind his desk and rubbed his eyes. Yes, he must forget the things that happened tonight to bring him to this troubled state. He didn't know how long that he sat there, brooding behind his desk and carefully blocking his memories away again. When at last his mind was calm and at rest, he rose from his seat and stood near the door until the sound of feet—the other staff members entering the teachers' lounge—died away. When he was sure that he would meet no one, he left the classroom.

He turned the corner into the corridor where the secret entrance was and stopped in his tracks; Hermione was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, legs crossed, scratching away with a quill on a piece of parchment. Having successfully put his earlier thoughts away, Severus walked up and stood over her, leaning over slightly and saying loudly—because she failed to notice his approach—"You are aware, I'm sure, that there are comfortable chairs and places to sit _inside_ the lounge?"

Hermione jumped and looked up at him. Her eyes widened. "W- what?"

He rolled his eyes as he straightened. "Why are you sitting on the cold floor when you could by in your couch by the fire or someplace a bit more comfortable?"

She signed her name at the bottom of the page and folded the parchment as she stood. "I was finishing a letter to Harry and wanted to take it to the owlery tonight. I thought it would be easier to finish it here and walk to the owlery before entering the lounge."

He raised an eyebrow and said, "Of course," before turning to enter the lounge.

Hermione watched him go and then turned away, walking up to the owlery and tying her letter to the leg of one of the school's owls. She was trembling, but it wasn't from walking quickly; Severus had leaned over her. He had been close. Close enough to catch, in full, his wonderful scent. And he'd just come from his classroom or his office, so the smell of potion ingredients was strong. However it still wasn't strong enough to completely overpower his own scent. Hermione walked back down from the tower, wondering which potion Severus had started brewing before dinner and had to leave for after. She made it back to her room and went to bathe, falling asleep in the bathtub, as had become a common occurrence lately. As she had before, she woke in the middle of the night and dried off, dressing in her pajamas and stumbling, half asleep, to bed after turning out the lights.

The next day she waited anxiously for Neville to arrive. She couldn't wait to talk to him and see him again. And she hoped that perhaps Harry would come along, just to see her for a bit. It was just before lunch when she was walking in the courtyard with the headmistress and the Minister of Magic, discussing the latest news, when three people walked onto the grounds. Hermione shrieked and ran, quite forgetting to act like a mature adult, towards them. McGonagall and Kingsley only smiled and watched her go.

Neville was leading the other two, and she threw her arms around him and hugged him first. He smiled and stepped back as she hugged Harry just as quickly, and then she turned to find Ron. To the boys' mutual shock, she threw her arms around him, too, and when she stepped back she said, "Congratulations, Ron!"

Neville and Harry looked bewildered, and Ron seemed genuinely amazed that she wasn't upset with him. "Didn't he tell you two?" Hermione asked, looking from Ron to Harry and Neville. They shook their heads.

"Tell us what?" Neville asked. Harry looked just as confused.

"'Mione," Ron broke in before she could answer, "It's a lie. It's all a big fat lie. I never did what I said, I just . . ." he faltered, but then went on, "I just wanted to make you jealous." He frowned and kicked the ground, "It obviously didn't work, though."

Now Harry and Neville were looking at Ron with expressions that demanded an explanation. "I-" Ron began.

"He wrote me and told me that he'd met up with Lavender and asked her to marry him and that the wedding would be next summer," Hermione interrupted.

Harry and Neville looked stunned. Harry spoke first. He turned on Ron, angry, but Hermione stopped him. "It's fine. Like he said, it didn't work. I'm actually relieved to see that it isn't real, though. All's forgiven, now forget it."

Ron looked to her hopefully. "Will you-"

"No, Ron, I won't. I think we ought to just go back to being best friends," Hermione answered before he'd even finished asking. He nodded.

"All right."

Hermione smiled and looked at all of them. Then she turned to Neville and raised her eyebrows. A slight smile played on his face but he shook his head, indicating that they could talk later. Now Harry and Ron looked bewildered. "It's kind of a surprise that I figure someone else will tell you two pretty quick," Neville said, looking at them.

Hermione knew what he meant; Luna and Ginny had become good friends and Luna frequently visited the burrow; she'd tell Ginny and Molly and Ron, and Harry would know soon enough that she and Neville were together. Smiling, Hermione nodded towards the school and they started to walk slowly. At the mention of lunch, Ron sped up rather quick. They made it to the table and everyone was happy to see the three boys. Hermione spent some time beside the lake, in the place where she had spent countless afternoons with Harry and Ron during their years in school. It seemed only too soon that they had to leave with Kingsley and she hugged them both, watching them walk back into the castle but not following.

She leaned against the tree behind her and closed her eyes, lifting her chin and resting her head against the trunk of the tree. She sighed; she could talk to Neville later, but right now she needed to think. First she actually let a wave of relief wash over her that Lavender hadn't actually been involved with Ron at all since the war and he wasn't using her. She was also relieved that Ron hadn't gotten too upset when she said she just wanted to be friends. And now Neville and Luna were together, and they just seemed so perfect for each other that she couldn't see anything coming between them in the future.

Then she flashed back to when she and the boys had walked into the Great Hall. She'd been looking at the boys, but had turned to see who was at the table already, and while everyone else was staring at Harry, Ron and Neville, one of the people at the table had been staring at her and hadn't given the boys a second glance. Severus had averted his eyes as soon as she looked at him, but she knew, somehow just knew, that he'd been watching her since they'd walked in. Wondering why he had done so, she opened her eyes again and was surprised to see Neville standing nearby, watching her.

"Neville?"

"Hey, I didn't know whether . . . if you don't want to be disturbed . . ." he said quietly.

"Oh, no! No, come here please!" Hermione pulled her cloak around her shoulders and smiled up at him.

He walked over and sat down beside her, leaning against the wide trunk of the tree. He turned and looked at her. They were quiet for a few moments, but neither felt awkward or uncomfortable. "I stopped by Saint Mungo's to see my parents again yesterday," he said after a while.

Hermione turned and smiled at him.

"I said I hi to your parents too," he shrugged, and then grinned boyishly. "I got the feeling they wanted me to tell you hi for them."

Her smile widened. "Thanks, Neville. I'm sure they liked seeing you."

They both nodded, and Neville looked up at the castle, standing tall and proud nearby. "Harry, Ron and I stopped by the burrow," he said quietly.

Hermione bit her lip and waited for him to go on. She knew that he'd never had a girlfriend before Luna and wondered if he was feeling awkward talking about it.

But Neville was fine. He trusted Hermione completely, not only because she and Harry and Ron had been part of the D.A., but also because she'd stayed in touch with him and Luna after they had left to look for horcruxes, which Harry and Ron had explained to him and filled him in on. He was actually wondering if Hermione was feeling awkward listening to him talk about Luna. "Luna was there," he said at last, "and we had some time alone in the garden." He watched as Hermione chewed her lip, grinning, and looked at him excitedly, "I had thought about it ever since I told you, but I had no idea what I was going to say. At the last minute I had this plan and it was going to sound really cool, but I forgot all about that and just asked her and . . . and she said yes."

Hermione stopped biting her lip and threw her arms around Neville, surprising him. He got over it and hugged her back, though. "Neville, that's so great!"

He smiled and when they let each other go he said, "She's close to Ginny, and Ginny's close to you, right?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, and I could get close to Luna if we saw each other a bit more often." She smiled as she thought about what a strange girl Luna was, unusual but perceptive and kindhearted. They sat in silence for a while longer, and then she asked, "Harry and Ron told you about why we had to leave? And about why you had to kill Nagini?"

Neville nodded. Then he shook his head and said, "I didn't realize how important it was that the snake died. I guess when the battle was happening and Harry told me to kill it, I thought maybe he didn't like it because of what happened to Mr. Weasley."

Hermione took a deep breath, but Neville continued, "And it killed—I mean, it almost killed Snape."

Hermione smiled; all of her friends still referred to the potions master as _Snape_, while she'd come to think of him as _Severus. _Then again, now that she thought about it, Severus would probably be angry with anyone who had been his student and now called him by first name and not last. "Yeah," she said, "Nagini tried to kill Snape. Harry, Ron and I, we thought he died right in front of us. He thought he was dying too."

Neville was silent for a few moments. "But you saved him and took him to Saint Mungo's."

She nodded. "I did."

"Who took care of him when he came back here?" he asked suddenly.

Hermione was surprised; she'd thought Harry and Ron would have told Neville. "Um, I did." She said quietly. Neville turned and looked at her, obviously shocked. She went on, "He was recovering from Nagini's attack, and then his dark mark kind of tried to kill him."

"How?" Neville asked.

"It made him hurt and burn everywhere, and he was weak and he couldn't move. He stayed in bed and I basically lived in a chair beside him and took care of him for a month before he started to get better, and then I started sleeping in my own room again and was there with him all day until he was strong enough to take care of himself."

"You fed him?" Neville looked impressed.

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, I fed him. And gave him water whenever he was thirsty, and bathed him with a wet cloth because no other remedies could work on the dark mark. It would reject all of them and cause him more pain."

"How did you cure him, then?" he asked. Now he looked awed that Hermione had been brave enough to do as she'd said.

Hermione felt herself blushing. "I started to care whether he lived or died, and I cried over him once while I was bathing him and he was asleep, and I guess my tears saved him, kind of like how Harry didn't actually die in the forbidden forest."

Neville nodded. "You saved his life twice, then?"

Hermione nodded back. "I guess I did. Never planned on it, but I guess none of us ever planned a lot of the things that happened to us, did we?"

Neville laughed. "You're right."

They talked for another hour, laughing and becoming silent and somber at different times, and Hermione hadn't felt free to talk about little things that didn't matter to anyone in a long while, so it was extremely nice and refreshing to have Neville around. He seemed just as happy to be talking to her, and would always blush whenever Luna was mentioned. Hermione thought it was sweet, how much he seemed to like her. Neville laughed once and said, "Oh, I forgot to show you. She was so impressed when I asked her that she gave me this," and he pulled a necklace from his pocket. A strange root or some kind of ugly object was hanging off the end. Hermione looked at him questioningly, and he smiled and said, "It's supposed to work as good bait for . . ." he trailed off, obviously thinking hard, ". . . I don't remember what they're called, but they're a cousin or something to the Crumple-Horned Snortkack. And I guess they're friendly and she wants to take one home and keep it as a pet or something?"

They both laughed. Eventually they walked back up to the school and Hermione gave Neville the tour of the school, as he hadn't seen it since visiting her earlier in the year, when the restoration wasn't finished. There were only minor changes here and there, and he seemed genuinely pleased that she had put Gryffindor tower back exactly as it had been.

He was thrilled with the teachers' lounge, and Hermione noticed how pleased he was to find an animal carved into his door. He looked around at the rest of them and asked, "Everyone's patronuses?" and Hermione nodded. Upon closer inspection, Hermione found that Neville's patronus was a lion. She was impressed, but it made perfect sense; he was a Gryffindor through and through and a lion was the Gryffindor crest. She smiled at him. He had then gone into his own room to explore, she was sure, and she went back to hers to give Crookshanks some attention.

She sat on the edge of her bed and thought of one of her many adventures with Harry and Ron during their second year at Hogwarts together. Then she whispered, "_Expecto_ _Patronum_," and watched as a silver otter burst from the tip of her wand and swam gracefully through the air in her room. She was never bored with watching it, but eventually felt no need to keep the spell any longer and watched the animal dissipate into silver miss and then vanish completely. Then she cast various spells on a bowl of water, making the liquid rise from the bowl and float in elegant spirals above her head. She was so focused that when someone knocked on her door she turned quickly and the water fell into her hair. Mumbling a quick spell that dried her hair and her clothes, she went to the door. It was Neville. He said something about dinner and with a start Hermione realized what time it was.

They walked to the Great Hall together and sat down at the table at the same time, though he sat across from her, between Hagrid and Pomona. Hermione could see how relieved he was that he wouldn't be sitting next to Severus. She actually let out a soft giggle over it and noticed, out of the corner of her eye, that Severus heard and raised one eyebrow at her. She pretended not to see, however, and joined the lively conversation going around the table as everyone served themselves and began to eat. Severus was the only one silent during most of the meal, though he did actually speak a few words to McGonagall at some point. The headmistress sat on the other side of Hermione, and Severus leaned back and looked past her to McGonagall. For the oddest reason, Hermione felt her face grow hot. She drank a quick gulp of pumpkin juice, which seemed to do away with the unwanted heat.

Severus noticed her giggle at the beginning of the meal and found himself stealing glances her way yet again. He had heard Minerva telling Pomona that Hermione and Ron had experienced a fallout and that was the reason for Hermione's odd behavior the day before. But Weasley had walked in beside her, and they had both seemed perfectly happy and at ease. Did that mean they were back together again? Severus was trying hard not to think about it. It was her personal life, and Merlin, he would not let himself become jealous of a teenage boy who had no brains! Then he considered how, after Potter and Weasley had left, Hermione had sat by herself outside for a while and then spent the rest of the day with Longbottom. They had talked for some time outside, and then Severus had seen her giving him a tour of the castle, and now they had walked to dinner together. But if Hermione and Weasley were back together, Severus was sure she would stay loyal.

Did that mean that she wasn't back together with Weasley? Or did it mean she was and Longbottom was just a close friend of hers? Or was there now something between her and Longbottom? Or was there nothing going on between any of them and she was just friends with Longbottom and happy to see him again? Severus sighed, setting down his fork to rub his temples. Teenagers. They were so damn confusing.

Without meaning to, Severus allowed his thoughts to drift back to what he felt for Hermione. There was nothing there. There could be nothing there. It was ridiculous to even think along any lines other than those. He began eating again and glanced out of the corner of his eye at the young woman beside him. He momentarily let himself admire how lovely those soft, chocolate-brown eyes were before he realized that they were staring back. Blinking, he looked back to his food and began to glare at his plate.

Hermione was laughing at something Neville had said and noticed that Severus had put down his silverware and was rubbing his temples, looking strained. She turned and looked at him, watching as he opened his eyes again and started eating once more. He looked all right, she supposed, just . . . a bit off. She had continued to look at him and was surprised when he looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. She expected him to look away at once, but he stared for several seconds. He had turned slightly to face her and she noticed that his eyes had changed again; now they weren't black as usual, they were a dark, deep chocolate-colour. And then he seemed to realize he was staring at her and turned away, glowering at his plate of food. But before he turned away, right after he realized she knew he was watching, his eyes had melted into a softer shade of dark brown.

Hermione turned back to her food as well, forgetting to be embarrassed in her pondering of Severus' stunning eyes. Wait, had she just called his eyes stunning? No. She would not allow herself to do that. It was insane. And of all people, the cruel potions master . . . he was unkind, inconsiderate, unable to care, ungrateful, and just plain cruel and undesirable and . . . _and he smelled good, and had stunning eyes. _The last thought seemed to pop into her head all of its own accord. She became very thankful that she could think without others hearing and tried to focus on eating from there on out. The bad things about Severus outweighed the good. That would make her stop and rethink her motives any day, and she was sure that she wouldn't find enough good things to outweigh the bad, so she was safe.

She walked back to the teachers' lounge with Neville after dinner, but trailed behind Severus. This seemed to frighten Neville a bit, but he said nothing about it and talked about school starting in a week. Hermione nodded and talked just as excitedly, but her mouth was doing its own thinking and her mind was on Severus' eyes.

She bathed and sent her otter swimming through the room before going to bed. In the darkness, with Crookshanks curled around her feet, she stared into the blackness and wondered why Severus' eyes had changed the way they had. She'd seen them get darker and colder when he was angry or annoyed, but this was just the opposite; they'd grown lighter and warmer and been actually _beautiful _rather than dark and mysterious. Not that being beautiful took any of the mystery in them away; she was still wondering what he'd been thinking that had caused him not to notice that he was looking at her. Or, she thought with a smile tugging at her lips, it had caused him to forget to look away from her.

**I am excited to know what you guys think of this one! Please review if you have time! Remember, any comments and advice or corrections you have are totally welcome! I want to write the best story that I can and if you give me feedback then it's easier to know how to do that! Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me this far! I love each and every one of you and hope you'll stay with me until I've finished it! I don't know just how long this will be yet but don't worry because the end is still a long ways off! Thanks again for reading! All my love! ~Taelr**


	12. Happy Birthday

Hermione threw herself into bed and didn't bother to change into her pajamas. She sighed; the first day of term had been amazing, but exhausting. She had heard the students talking, and apparently two Gryffindors had already landed themselves in detention with Severus. Hermione wondered what it would be like if she was the head of Gryffindor house and half wished that McGonagall had asked her, but at the same time was thankful that she hadn't. After all, this was only her first year teaching, and in order to be a qualified head of house she had to have taught at least one year at Hogwarts already. But she knew that McGonagall, as headmistress, really shouldn't have been the head of Gryffindor house because she was the head of the whole school.

Over the past week, Hermione and Neville had spent plenty of time together, getting both nervous and excited as the first day of September approached. Hermione's first day of teaching had been a pleasurable but tiring experience that left her wanting tomorrow to be there already, and also loathing when the morning came because there would be more classes right after breakfast. Hermione had already heard some of the students who had come to her classroom after potions grumbling about how, "The old bat was just as cruel and mean as ever." Rumor among the students told that he'd even made a first year girl cry just by talking to her at the beginning of class. Shaking her head, Hermione let herself collapse, her head hitting her pillow. She could wake up early in the morning and bathe then; right now she was too tired and just wanted to sleep.

She woke the next morning, early as she had wanted, and bathed and got herself ready quickly. The day seemed to drag by, but also to go far too quickly, and before she knew it she was sitting alone in her classroom, head bent over a stack of yesterday's light homework from the first years that had been turned in. She had only asked them to write out a brief description of what the point of taking transfiguration was, and none of them had complained; most had seemed pleased that there was such easy homework on the first day. Hermione hadn't given the second years or above any homework, remembering how much she had loathed it when it was given on the very first day of term.

As far as she'd heard, from both students and fellow staff members, the other teachers hadn't been so lenient. And now on the second day there was even more homework to be heard of. Hermione had decided that she would assign everyone some the next day, but the first two days she would be kind.

She only made it through half of her grading when she glanced absentmindedly up at the clock and realized she would be late if she didn't hurry to the Great Hall. Not wanting to look bad, she neatly stacked the papers and set them in a drawer in her desk before rising from her seat and leaving her classroom. She made it to her seat at the staff table at the head of the Great Hall just before the headmistress rose to address the students. While the staff had all sat around a large table in the corner of the Great Hall during the summer holiday, now they were back up at the traditional staff table which she and her friends had looked upon when they were students. Much to her surprise, when they gave the staff their seats at the staff table, she had remained on the left of Severus and the only change was that now Neville sat on her right, beside Pomona, who was next to McGonagall.

Hermione looked out over the students with a light smile on her face as she waited for McGonagall to finish her short speech, and when the headmistress sat the meal appeared on all of the tables. Hermione noticed as she served herself that more than one of the students was looking at her with a smile on his or her face. Wondering at the cause of this kindness, she smiled back and then turned her attention to her dinner.

She and Severus had gone through several similar experiences like the one that happened a week before; Hermione would turn and look at him because he looked troubled or strained, and he would open his eyes and glance at her out of the corner of his eye, only to turn and face her for a few seconds where he didn't seem aware of the fact that he was staring, and then turn away with a growl and a glare at his plate.

This had only happened a couple of times, though, and not at every meal, for which Hermione was thankful. She didn't know that Severus thought he must be losing it. He wasn't able to keep a firm hold on his emotions anymore, and while on the outside he was calm and cold as ever, on the inside there was nothing but turmoil as he tried to sort out what he thought of it all. Whenever he found himself staring at Hermione, he had always been admiring something about her without consciously allowing himself to do so, and every time, he turned away furious with himself. He could only hope that his constant glares directed her way whenever he wasn't staring at her in admiration would be enough to keep her thinking he hated her.

Hermione assumed he wasn't enjoying this year of school as much as he usually had, though she'd never known him to enjoy anything but being mean and bullying students. Shrugging to herself, she returned her attention to her food and tried to forget about Severus. However, she had to constantly remind herself to sit up straight and not to lean even slightly in his direction. Now there were more than staff members watching, and students were always more perceptive of such things as attraction than adults, so she dared not step out of line.

And so the two of them both struggled through their dinner, neither allowing their caution to lessen as they watched themselves, desperately fighting back the subconscious things they continued to do; he would glance her way, and she would lean his. Both were so wrapped up in keeping control of themselves that they failed to notice the other's battle being fought.

This time when she made it to her rooms, Hermione managed to change her clothes before falling into bed. She thought of Severus before she fell asleep, and she hated herself for it, but she would often press her face into her pillow and wish with everything in her that she might have a dream like the one she'd had almost a month before, in which she would press her face into Severus' chest and he would hold her. Severus retired to his rooms and changed from his dark attire, lying down and turning out the lights, then staring into the darkness, where he could swear Hermione's face was smirking at him everywhere he turned his eyes. Even when he closed them, she was there, smirking, now smiling and laughing, biting her bottom lip as he so hated . . .

And so both fell asleep and dreamed of the other, unaware of each other's affliction and lost in dreams that finally satisfied their absurd subconscious desires to be together. Neither woke until morning, and when they did, both slipped into the hot water in their bathtubs and tried to wash away the memories of their dreams. Hermione had gotten her wish and been in Severus' arms all the night, her face pressed against his shoulder, free to breathe in his scent as she wished. Severus had found himself walking through a dark hallway and following Hermione for some reason, and then everything had been black and warm and he had seen nothing, when the scene abruptly changed and he was completely unaware of his whereabouts because he was kissing his former student and could care less where they were.

Hermione tried and failed to block out the memories over and again, eventually losing her temper and slapping the surface of the water with her palm, which only left a sore, red mark across her hand and caused a funny noise and an explosion of purple bubbles all over her. Glaring at the bubbles for their offensive actions, she sank under the water to rinse them from her hair and used her hands to clear the bubbles from the surface above her before coming up where she could breathe again. Severus became so furious that he threw his bar of soap into the air and used several different incantations to make it explode until he tired of piecing it back together with simple charms and eventually put it back on the edge of the bathtub.

All Hermione heard from students who were headed for Severus' classroom were grumbles from the second years and up, who hated him with a passion, it seemed. There were terrified whispers from the first years, and she wondered how it was possible for the students to hate him so when she couldn't get him off her mind and found ways to ignore his terrible behavior and see good in him somewhere. All Severus heard from students who entered his classroom straight from transfiguration was how much they loved Hermione, and all of his students leaving for her class seemed hardly able to restrain themselves from running in their eagerness to get to their beloved teacher's presence. He found himself wondering how the students could possibly love her so when he managed to find something wrong with everything she did and hated her for how he felt.

Two weeks went by and Hermione found herself waking on her birthday, pleasantly surprised that it happened to be on a Saturday and wondering how she had forgotten about it so completely. She smiled when she noticed a small pile of presents on top of her trunk at the foot of her bed. Still having plenty of time to get ready before breakfast, she went and sat at the end of her bed and opened her presents. She looked cautiously at the gifts from the Weasleys; Ginny and Ron tended to get her normal things, while George could be expected to send her something from _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes _and Arthur was known for sending muggle items.

True to her expectations, Ginny had bought her a book on teaching all magical classes. It was a book that she'd never read before, which was something rare, and she smiled down at the plain leather cover. Opening the note, she found that the book was from both Harry and Ginny. Smiling wider, she opened Ron's gift. It was a blinking badge that said, "Gryffindor Nerd." Shaking her head at this, Hermione set the badge on top of the book and opened the present from Arthur Weasley. It was, as anticipated, an item from a muggle home. But Hermione laughed instead of being frightened by his choice; inside of the small package rested a light switch. Smiling more, she opened a parcel of homemade peppermint candies from Molly, Charlie, and Bill, and popped one in her mouth as she read the note from them.

There were four presents left. One was large and rectangular, and the other three were smaller. Opening the one closest to her, Hermione found a golden bracelet with a red lion carved into it. When she put the bracelet on the lion moved, opening its mouth in a silent roar. There was a small note inside the wrapping. _Never take this off; it will help you when you need it most. ~L.L. _Hermione knew immediately that it was from Luna, and looked down at the bracelet, wondering what special power it held that it could help her when she needed it most. She tore her gaze away from it after a few seconds and took the next small present. It was a small, delicate stone otter, carved so perfectly and with so much detail from rose quarts that Hermione was almost afraid to touch it for fear that it would shatter. She read the short note, which had been written by McGonagall, but was signed by every member of the staff. She held the otter to her chest, surprised that the other staff members had given her a gift.

She found her eyes searching the parchment all of their own accord, stopping and staring in the corner, where the flowing, slanted signature of one Severus Snape could be found. She wondered whether McGonagall had made him sign or if he had perhaps had anything to do with her receiving a gift from all of them.

Forcing her attention to the last two presents when she remembered that she still needed to get ready and be at breakfast, she set the otter gently on her bedside table and turned back to the last small present, lying on top of the large one. It was from Neville. Hermione was shocked; how he had gotten his hands on a tiny bottle of _Felix_ _Felicis_, she would never know. And why he would give it to her rather than keep it for himself made her wonder as well. She put the potion in her beaded bag and opened the last, large present. It was a massive book on transfiguration and which careers students could pursue if they succeeded at the subject. Hermione had never seen or heard of the book, which listed every possible career for any student, giving detailed summaries of each career and what grade the student would require in their O.W.L.s and their N.E.W.T.s. Hermione found a small note attached on the inside cover: _Hermione, thought you might like this. Came across it while cleaning out offices of past workers at the Ministry. –Percy_

Hermione was surprised he'd gotten her something, but pleased all the same. Since the battle at Hogwarts, Percy was back as a part of the Weasley family again and he would stay that way. Kingsley Shacklebolt had hired him and immediately promoted him as soon as the battle was over, and he was doing good things with the Ministry of Magic. He had, in the short time since he quit his job at the fallen Ministry, become much the caring older brother to Hermione and she smiled at the thought of him. Making a mental note to write thank you letters to all of them, she set the books on the shelf on the wall and put the other things in the drawer of her bedside table. Then she walked to the bathroom and got ready for the day, changing into new robes and leaving for breakfast.

Neville was waiting for her out in the teachers' lounge and he said, "Happy birthday!" as soon as he saw her.

"Thanks," she said, smiling.

"Oh, dear! Happy birthday!" It was Pomona, who had just entered the lounge.

"Thank you," Hermione said again.

The three of them walked out of the lounge and up to the Great Hall together. "I didn't know the staff members usually gave each other gifts," Hermione said, looking to Pomona.

The older witch smiled. "Well, of course some of us have, being close friends, but that's always personal. This was something different than what we've ever done before. It was all Neville's idea, here!" and she patted Neville on the shoulder. He blushed a deep red as Hermione smiled at him.

"Really? The otter and the note were your idea? Oh, thank you, Neville! I love them!"

He blushed even more at her words and nodded, looking pleased but embarrassed. Pomona smiled and they walked in silence. Hermione was pleased and disappointed to find out that it had been Neville. She supposed it was a stupid thing to have wished that Severus was the one behind the gift, but it had still been something that made her happy to think about. Now she was almost positive that the headmistress had forced him to sign the note. Smiling at the thought, she followed Neville and Pomona into the Great Hall. Here and there staff members greeted her with, "Happy birthday," and some of the students caught on as well. The entire Gryffindor table sang to her as she walked towards the staff table, and this time it was she who was looking pleased and embarrassed.

She took her seat beside an especially stony Severus and tried to ignore the fact that he was glaring at the Gryffindors because of their song. The headmistress rose once all of the staff were seated and addressed the students, explaining that the next weekend there would be a trip to Hogsmeade, and first years had to stay at the school, but anyone older who had a permission slip signed by their parent or guardian could go if they wanted. Hermione smiled, remembering her days in Hogsmeade as a student with Harry and Ron.

McGonagall sat down and food appeared on the tables, and everyone began to eat. Hermione noticed that Severus seemed to be struggling with something, but today she was free of her own struggles and her mind was on her birthday. She even managed to forget about how wonderful Severus smelled and actually focus on eating and talking to Neville for once.

For Severus, breakfast was a different matter altogether. He sat, staring down at his food, arguing with himself again. He glanced carefully at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, but only once, not daring to do it again. Should he tell her happy birthday? Birthday felicitations had never been something he participated in, but he found his lips longing to betray him and wish her a happy birthday simply for an excuse to speak with her. Hating himself for longing as he did for any kind of contact with the young woman beside him, he reprimanded himself again because of his feelings for her. She is too young, far too young, he thought. I must remember how young she is. He sipped his pumpkin juice and began eating just to keep his mouth busy with something so that it couldn't betray him.

All through breakfast he was fighting a losing battle and Hermione was pleased to find herself diverted and enjoying the meal. She found no need to reprimand herself for what she felt for Severus, because as of the moment it wasn't interfering with anything else and she wasn't even thinking about her emotions for the man.

She spent the day in the teachers' lounge with Neville; they would have been at the lake but the students would assume something was happening between them and they were supposed to be acting like mature adults. Hermione wanted so badly to sit against the trunk of the tree by the water again and cross her legs under her like a girl, but knew that with the students around she was supposed to be a model to them and could not behave in such a way.

It was late at night when they retired to their rooms, but Hermione waited until the other staff were all in their own quarters before she stepped out again. She hadn't seen Severus besides the meals, but assumed that he was in his own rooms by then. She glanced around the teachers' lounge, looking casual and not suspicious, but found it empty. So she walked to the main door and left, walking down the corridor that led away from the teachers' quarters. She had no intention to actually go anywhere, just to walk and think for a while. Any students who were up now would receive detention for sneaking around, and wouldn't suspect her meanderings. With that happy thought, she let her mind wander and mulled over whatever thoughts came to her.

Severus pointed his wand to what was left of the last of his students' dirty cauldrons and said, "_Evanesco."_ The substances lining the walls or pooled in the bottom of them vanished and the potions master sighed, pleased to be finished with his work. He could have cleaned the cauldrons in the morning and spent his day doing nothing, had he not needed to brew several potions for madam Pomfrey, who had already found herself mending multiple magical injuries since the beginning of term. Setting the potions on the shelf behind his desk, he walked towards the door; he could deliver them to the medical ward the following morning.

He stepped out of his office and turned to see someone's coat trailing behind them as they turned a corner. Suspecting an older student was sneaking out of the Slytherin common room, which was nearby, he put a disillusionment charm on himself and walked, invisible, down the corridor. He turned the corner and saw that the student had stopped and was staring ahead into the darkness with his or her head cocked slightly to the side. Severus approached quietly and carefully. The student turned back towards him and with a shock he realized it was Hermione. He watched, transfixed, as she ducked into the darkest shadows on the wall. He could still see her, but then her whispered incantation could be heard as a faint hiss and she vanished, invisible under a charm like he was. He looked into the darkness as she had, wondering what she had hidden herself for, and found his answer soon enough.

Moving on silent paws, Mrs. Norris padded into the corridor. She stared right at Severus, though he knew he was invisible, and then walked by, glancing at where Hermione was crouching as well. Then uneven footsteps approached and Filch appeared from the darkness, trailing after his beloved cat. He glanced from side to side but his eyes swept over both Severus and Hermione. Severus felt foolish hiding from Filch, but did not want to reveal himself because then Hermione would know of his presence and suspect that he had been following her. Filch moved on and turned, going through a door that Severus knew led to the caretaker's office.

Severus flashed back to his dream; walking down a dark hall and following Hermione. He felt a sudden, overpowering sense of foreboding and knew he should turn back; he was following Hermione, not a misbehaving student. She was a staff member now and had just as much right to prowl the grounds at night as he did, but why had she hidden from Filch? Didn't she know that she had the right? Or was she aware and she simply didn't feel like explaining herself or going through any kind of encounter? Severus watched the shadows, urging his feet to take him back to the teachers' lounge but also wanting to find out where her destination was. His feet wouldn't follow his command to go back, and he stood against the wall opposite where Hermione was hidden, only a matter of feet away.

He heard footsteps from the shadows and realized that she was not going to lift her disillusionment charm. If she remained invisible, he could not pinpoint where she was and would be unable to follow her. He might walk right into her or she into him for all he knew. It took him only seconds to realize that the footsteps were approaching and not moving away from him. Of course; she'd seen that damn cat staring at him. She'd had enough nightly excursions with Potter and Weasley to know that the cat had an uncanny ability to seemingly see straight through invisibility cloaks and charms that concealed anyone. Panicking at the thought that she would find him spying on her, and quite without thinking, he silently thought incantation that stopped her charm from working and pointed his wand away from him. He remained concealed, but she appeared quite suddenly and very close to him. Closer even, than he had expected.

She stopped, knowing right away that she was visible. Eyes darting from one side of the dark corridor to the other, she looked about suspiciously. Before Severus could flee back to the teachers' quarters where he belonged, she too, cast the counter charm, and silently as he had, for he was suddenly quite visible and still quite close to her. She covered her mouth with one hand, barely stopping the gasp of surprise that he knew sprang to her lips. She took her hand from her mouth, but had not yet stepped back, and they were still standing very close together.

Severus stared down at her, keeping his face impassive. But his mind was reeling. What excuse could he use? Could he tell her the truth, that he had thought her a naughty student who deserved detention? Thinking back, it seemed a weak explanation for spying after he'd seen who she was. And it seemed even worse then, because if he said that he hadn't seen her face, he needed a reason why he hadn't stopped Filch and caught her then and there.

Hermione was too shocked to react beyond her initial gasp of surprise, and lowered her hand slowly back down from her mouth, staring up at the potions master. First she was bewildered, and then she was annoyed that he was spying, and then she was astounded; he had been following her? Was he stalking her or did he think that she would be up to something? Had he perhaps mistaken her for a student who was out for a midnight stroll against the rules? But if that was the case than why hadn't he left when she turned back as she hid from Filch? And if he hadn't seen her face, then why hadn't he stopped the gamekeeper so they could catch her together, thinking she was a student? Her thoughts were just as muddled as Severus'.

They stood very still for several moments. Neither spoke, but both were thinking. "Why were you following me?" Hermione blurted out at last.

Severus was usually ready for anything, but while on the outside he remained calm and collected he was panicking on the inside. For lack of a reasonable explanation, he went on the defensive; "That is for me to know and you to forget about."

And his feet actually obeyed him for once, and he turned, striding away down the corridor. But Hermione wasn't satisfied in the least with his answer. If anything, she was more suspicious because he had evaded giving her an explanation. She tried to stop him with words, and when that failed she actually reached out and grabbed his arm. He stopped, whirling around and facing her. He was glaring, but she could see only how pale his face was in the darkness and it was hard to read his expression. "What are you doing walking around this time of night?" she asked.

He lifted his chin slightly and said, "I could ask you the same."

Hermione folded her arms, releasing his. "That is not a proper answer to my question."

Even though she'd only been touching him for a matter of seconds, he felt a strange tingling in his arm in the place her hand had been. He looked down at her. It was obvious that he could see better in the dark than she, but he was used to the dungeons and she was not. Her arms were folded firmly over her chest, she had tilted her head back so she could look him in the eyes, and her mouth was set in a thin, determined line. He thought fleetingly that he didn't like to see her lips like that, pressed together so that they were rather white. He liked when they were full and pink better, perhaps even when she was biting her bottom lip as she did so often . . .

Realizing what he was doing, he mentally reprimanded himself and tried to come up with a response. "I-" he found himself stammering. She was looking just as surprised as he that he was even capable of stammering when he spoke. "I," he tried again. She waited, eyebrows raised, wanting an explanation that would make sense. "Happy Birthday," he growled, turning on his heel and striding quickly back to the teachers' lounge. He turned the corner and knew that his words had done the trick; she wasn't following.

Hermione stood, in the middle of the corridor, feeling extremely warm and happy all of the sudden. Although it was hardly appropriate for the potions master to be following her, she wondered whether he'd known it was her all along and wanted to know what she was up to. Also, even though he'd said his last words very harshly and in a growl, to her it was as if he'd whispered them sweetly in her ear. She couldn't help but smile; Severus Snape had wished her a happy birthday, and that was a better present than the rest of them put together.

**Sorry this one was short! I have school and stuff to catch up on today but I didn't want to keep you waiting. The next chapter's length is so far undetermined, but I'll start working on it ASAP and hopefully have it up tomorrow. Maybe even if I'm lucky and have the time, tonight. But he next chapter will hold a few interesting happenings! Thanks again for reading and to all of you who review, you make my day every time that I read what you've said and it encourages me so much! Thanks again! ~Taelr**


	13. Forgive Me

Severus and Hermione were ignoring each other whenever possible after their encounter in the dark corridor in the middle of the night.

Severus was furious that he, a master spy, could allow himself to be caught by an eighteen-year-old girl. And in spite of his anger that he directed towards her for his own irresponsible actions, the voice in the back of his head was crooning that she was now an adult in the wizarding world and the muggle world and not so young after all. He now had to deal with the urge to look at her whenever they met, not just at meals. Even if she entered a room and his back was to the door, he realized that while she was in his rooms tending to him and he was dying, he had come to recognize her footsteps by the way she walked and how light they were. Whenever she was there his eyes were constantly drawn to her by some inexplicable force, and whenever a student mentioned her he had to clench his jaw and concentrate on not allowing his head to snap up, expecting her to appear.

Hermione was just as haunted; one word about him from her students and she looked up expectantly, but she had spontaneously lifted her head to smile at her students so often in the past that she only had to smile and they saw nothing out of the ordinary. She found herself leaning towards him almost all of the time at meals, and had to force herself to remain sitting straight and still as she could. And whenever he walked into a room or within her range of sight, even if she had to turn around to see him, there was something in the air that came with him and which she recognized as soon as it arrived. Also, she had learned to recognize his footsteps; he walked with a long stride, and almost strutted along when he moved. And at the mention of him by other staff members, she had to pretend she hadn't heard if they weren't talking to her and put a convincing, bored expression on her face at his name if they were talking to her.

Ginny had come back to school for her sixth year, but Hermione had had little time for the girl because of classes and homework. Ginny was also playing on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and she was quite busy herself with all of the practices that she had to fit into her schedule. Hermione smiled, remembering how excited she had been to watch Harry and Ron when they were on the team. She was looking forward to the first game of the season, which would be that next Saturday. Then again, it would be Gryffindor against Slytherin, and she couldn't help but suspect foul play based on her personal experiences with Slytherin students in the past. Pansy Parkinson had returned as well, and Hermione had been relieved to find that Draco Malfoy hadn't. He seemed to be quite happy hiding at home with his parents, who had been tried by Kingsley and were still being watched carefully.

Hermione was sitting at her desk, focusing on two things at once. She was grading papers and thinking about Severus, and somehow managing to multitask without writing his name on the top of the parchments instead of the grade each student had received. She finished the grading and set the papers in her bag, where they would stay until she handed them back to the fifth years the next day. She would have only a matter of moments to herself before the third year Slytherin came into her classroom, and she waved her wand absently at several bits and pieces of parchment that had been pushed off of their desks. The papers flew to her desk and lay out in front of her. She hadn't cleaned the classroom all day, and these notes and blank pieces of parchment could be from sixth years, third years, or first years.

She glanced over several bits of notes from third years, and smiled; the writers of the notes had listened well. The sixth year notes were mostly written to each other in some secret code, and she didn't have the time or the interest to decipher them. The first year notes made her extremely pleased; they were absorbing more than she'd previously thought. Turning over what appeared to be a blank piece of paper, she saw just a bit of ink that looked strangely cut off. Suspecting an amateur charm, she tapped her wand on the paper. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open at what she saw; the initials _S.S. + H.G._ were written neatly in a carefully-drawn heart. On the back of the note were several sentences that the two first years—girls, obviously—had written to each other.

_Have you seen the way he looks at her? _

_Yes! And how she looks up whenever she hears his name?_

_He's a bit old, though, isn't he?_

_Age doesn't matter when you're in love!_

_You're right._

_Do you think they'll ever get married?_

_No. If McGonagall knew she'd skin Him alive and fire him!_

_She would never do that to _Her_, though, would she?_

_No. Never._

Hermione closed her teeth with a click and grabbed the notes, putting most of them in her desk drawer to hand back to whoever had lost them the following lesson she had with each of those classes. She stared for a moment longer at the heart with the initials inside of it and tucked it away inside of her robes. She was blushing slightly; it was obvious who the girls had been talking about. _SS + HG: _Severus Snape plus Hermione Granger. Her face had only just returned to its normal shade of white when the next group of students entered. They all looked sour, and she knew why; they'd just come from the potions classroom.

Hermione couldn't help but smile as she taught them how to turn mice into teacups. So, two of the students had noticed her and Severus' odd behavior. How many others, older students even, had caught on? She pondered it absently while watching the class as they tried to do as she'd told them.

She gathered up the new bits of scattered parchment at the end of the day and read all of them. Many were notes, as before, but now most of the blank pieces didn't turn out to be so blank after all. Only a few of the students from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw were aware of what was happening between their least favorite and their most beloved teachers. And between those three houses all of the notes were written by girls who thought the supposed relationship between their professors quite beautiful and endearing. Many of them had started hoping that Severus would eventually declare his undying love for Hermione, even if it lost him is job and the respect of everyone. Most of these girls were between their first and third years, and three of them seemed to have started their own little club, fantasizing over possible outcomes of the teachers' relationship when they should have been focusing on their school.

There were, however, even a few notes about it from the Slytherin students. But these were almost all seemingly written by girls who hated Hermione and couldn't understand why their head of house would find her interesting in the least. There were even several insults about her that she laughed at. Some called her too good, others said that she was the reason their parents or some family member had been sent to Azkaban because of the fall of the dark lord, and some even blamed her for the deaths of their death eater relatives. And then she found one that seemed to have been written by a Slytherin boy. He had scribbled down several signs that Severus was indeed harboring feelings for the transfiguration teacher. Apparently, he'd even done several "experiments" just to be sure. And he had decided that his suspicions were valid.

Hermione wasn't worried by any of these, however; the students would never dare let their suspicions slip to any of the staff, and even if they did as long and she and Severus were avoiding each other as they were now or even just talking but not openly acting as if they were attracted to each other, no one among the staff would care. Besides, if the staff members ended up deciding that she did have affections for the potions master, they would never guess that he returned her feelings. Hermione stopped thinking about it then; even _she _wasn't sure that the head of Slytherin house actually did have any feelings for her other than spite and annoyance.

Several days had passed since Hermione had walked the dungeon at night on her birthday to think and had discovered Severus following her. On Friday evening all of the students were back in their common rooms, the anticipation rising for the Quidditch match the following morning. But sitting in her classroom, Hermione had other things than Quidditch or school on her mind. She put away the last of the homework, which she could grade later, and rose from her seat. It was about time she got the answers she deserved.

Walking down to the dungeon, she made her way to the potions classroom, hoping Severus would be there. Sure enough, he was, moving around as he used magic to put away most of the students' cauldrons. Hermione watched him from the half-open door for a moment. He moved around the room, still strutting, his black cloak billowing darkly behind him as it always had. He sat down behind his desk at last and Hermione decided it was now or never. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door, closing it behind her, and walked up to his desk. He had his head bent over some records and didn't look up. "What?" The tone of his voice made it obvious he thought she was a student.

Steeling herself, Hermione said firmly, "I want answers."

He heard her voice and looked up quickly, standing suddenly. Hermione was sure that he felt vulnerable while sitting if she was standing and that was why he'd risen. "I already gave them," he said shortly, picking up the records and walking to his office, where he set them on a shelf. He walked back into the classroom and appeared a bit surprised that she hadn't left yet.

"I want _real _answers," she said.

He let out a puff of breath and growled, "I gave _real_ answers."

"You did not. You evaded all of my questions. Now give me real answers," Hermione insisted hotly.

He did what he had done many times to frighten students; he had not been facing her, but he turned suddenly and swept up closer until their faces were inches apart. Had she still been in school, his actions would have the desired effect. However, at the present, they did not. Seeing her unyielding glare, he flinched slightly and leaned away from her, but there was still only about a foot of space between them. Hermione took a moment to remember why she was there; his scent was all around her, overpowering her mind and making her want to just lean closer and enjoy it for a moment. Even as she was struggling, so was Severus. Those chocolate-brown eyes were looking at him, blinking hurt and confusion his way.

Hermione found her voice again. She turned away from him and walked to the wall, pressing her hands against the cool stone surface and feeling her confusion and muddled thoughts clear. She turned to face him and let go of the wall, though she was still standing close to it. "Why did you follow me?" she asked again.

He turned to face her, one hand resting on the student's desk beside him. He leaned against it, casually. "Why does it matter?" he asked coolly.

"Because I want to know," Hermione insisted.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure there are plenty of things you'd like to know."

At this, Hermione took a hopeful few steps towards him.

"But," he said, noting her approach and fearing the affect she had on him, "that does _not_ mean you'll get answers."

Hermione huffed and glared at him. He glared right back. There were a few feet of space between them. Hermione was fighting the suddenly desperate urge to close that space. She had no clue that Severus was as well. No, he had to look away now. If he stared at her any longer, his resolve would be gone completely . . .

He averted his eyes. Hermione increased her glare on his face. She spoke very slowly and firmly. "Why did you follow me?"

He was fighting harder now. He couldn't look. He couldn't look at her at all. If he did, it would all be over.

"Answer me," she said, meaning to speak loudly, but her voice came as a whisper.

His head jerked up and he looked at her, obviously surprised that she had whispered. To her, it was lovely, because he finally looked her in the eye. Once again, she saw that his eyes were a deep, dark brown. She was transfixed.

Meanwhile, he had indeed lost all resolve by simply looking at her. Everything about her was suddenly so obviously beautiful; he wondered how he'd ever insulted her before. Those eyes were staring at him, and she wasn't glaring anymore. The crease between her brows had ceased to exist and her forehead was smooth. Her brown curls suddenly seemed the perfect color, and they looked soft and lovely. Her skin looked pale and beautiful. Why had he ever questioned the reasoning behind her being a favorite among the students? He stared at her, and his gaze was warm and gentle, hardly the cold, hard glare she was used to.

Hermione was completely lost in his eyes. She forgot why she was there. She forgot what she'd just said. She only knew that she wanted to step forward and close the gap between them. Coming back to reality, she managed to force her feet to remain still. He came back as well, but was still admiring her beauty. Remembering her motive in coming to the potions classroom, Hermione asked again, softly, "Why did you follow me?"

"I- I don't know," Severus admitted quietly.

Hermione blinked, and then he was right there, only inches away from her. She wasn't sure whether it was he or she that had moved forward, or both.

Severus was losing it. He had barely any control, hardly any restraint left; he would be unable to stop himself in only a moment. He had to look away. But trying to avert his eyes was like trying to move Hogwarts by pushing on the wall. And then, he snapped. He lost his last bit of will that had been holding him back. With a quick, whispered, "I'm sorry," in advance, the apology for his unrestrained actions burst from him. Then he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against hers. Hermione was so surprised she didn't move, simply remained still while Severus moved his lips against hers.

And then the spell seemed to break. Severus realized what he was doing and pulled back, leaning away from her and staring at her in shock. He began to apologize again, but while he was panicking Hermione was biting her lip and smiling at him. Did he regret it? Obviously. But was it because he didn't want to kiss her or because he thought she didn't want to kiss him?

Realizing that he thought he had done something without her consent, she moved forward, put her arms around his neck, and leaned forward until their faces were mere inches apart. He was watching her, his eyes still like melted chocolate, seemingly transfixed that she had even moved towards him again. Then, abandoning all caution and recklessly obeying her desire to do so, she closed the space between them and pressed her lips to his. And after an unresponsive moment, he was kissing her back. Her professor, the old bat of the dungeons who cared for no one and knew not what to do with those who cared for him, was kissing her.

And then he broke away. "Get. Out. Now." He gently pushed her away from him.

But Hermione was feeling reckless. "No."

He raised his eyebrows, and she couldn't look away from his still-stunning eyes. "No?" he asked, obviously furious.

"Severus," she said softly, and his anger seemed to ebb away into nothingness when she said his name.

He closed his eyes. "Forgive me," he said huskily.

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. She walked up to him and put her hand on his cheek. "Look at me." He refused. "Look. At. Me." she whispered. It was occurring to her just how boldly she was behaving, but she ignored that.

His eyes opened and met hers. "Don't be sorry," she whispered. "Do I look like I regret it?"

He stared into her eyes, searched her face. No, she did not look like she regretted it. In fact, her eyes were twinkling with untold happiness. "No," he said quietly. He wanted to simply close his eyes and revel in the feeling of her hand on his cheek, but she wanted him to look at her, so he met her eyes again.

His eyebrows rose again when she stood on her toes, clutching his cloak and pulling herself up. She kissed him again, and he kissed her back. And then he was somehow unafraid of pulling her into his arms when it was over. She buried her face in his chest and he buried his in her hair. And for a moment, the two of them could have sworn they were experiencing heaven. Severus clutched her tighter to him and then let her go, sighing. She bit her lip and smiled up at him. He closed his eyes patiently and said nothing about her bad habit of biting her lip. She swallowed and said, "Dinner?" as she looked at the clock. He glanced at it, too, and nodded. She reluctantly let go of his cloak and both stood on their own.

Hermione started walking towards the door first, knowing that they shouldn't linger and he was probably already getting back to his regular cold self. But when she made it to the door—which she was now very thankful she'd closed when she entered—he said softly, "Hermione."

She turned and looked at him, and his eyes were just as melted and beautiful as they had been before. She waited for him to say more. "You realize how serious this is?"

She nodded, biting her lip again, this time without a smile.

"It cannot happen again."

She nodded again, though her eyes were wet with extra liquid. Then, not waiting for him to say anything more, she left the classroom and wiped her eyes, blinking away her tears and heading for the Great Hall.

Dinner was as it had been the day before; both were still battling themselves. Even after what had happened in the classroom, and what had been said, they were still drawn to each other. When the meal was over, both were relieved and walked straight to the dungeons. This time, however, Severus was in the front of the group of staff and Hermione was in the very back. Neville was talking to her, but she agreed with whatever he'd said and entered the teachers' lounge just in time to see that Severus had turned where he stood in front of his door. Their eyes met for a moment and then she turned away and entered her room. He watched her go and sighed, entering his own.

This was what he wanted. He had to push her away or she would continue to care for him. And she was half his age. She had her whole life ahead of her and he was a double agent who was, as many believed against Potter's claims, a criminal. He would ruin her and soil her chance at a beautiful, wonderful life. He stared at himself in the mirror, leaning on his hands and noticing the lines in his brow, the greasy look of his hair, and just how ugly he was when he glared at himself. What could she possibly see in him?

He walked back to his bedroom and changed before climbing into bed. This was for the best. She would move on and marry someone her own age, someone who could give her a good home, and love, and a family. Someone without a criminal record, someone who had a good family that would love her, someone who could offer more than the scarred, battered heart of an old man. Severus leaned his head back on his pillow and stared into the darkness. She could never love him anyways. It was just a crush, as all teenagers got. Perhaps she was an adult now, but that didn't mean her feelings had actually _been_ anything. He had to do this. It was for her. Should he follow his own selfish desires, he would accept whatever affections she offered, because he had come to love her. But he was sure that she could never love him. She never had, and he would ensure, for her sake, that she never would.

Hermione changed, tears welling up in her eyes again, and then threw herself down on her bed and turned out the lights. But rather than feeling foolish or naïve, or as if she'd been taken advantage of, she wished Severus would open his eyes and see that she really did care. But she was sure she knew why he'd said what he had; they were teachers and couldn't let their personal lives interfere with their professional. Or perhaps he just didn't feel that way about her?

Hermione finally let it out. She buried her face in her pillow, tears soaking the fabric and streaming down her cheeks. Was this what he had wanted? To make her miserable? She shook, her whole body wracked with sobs as she thought back to the potions classroom. He had kissed her first. But no, this was her fault. She had gone to his classroom and invaded his space and not listened when he told her to leave. He had kissed her, yes. But then he had come to his senses and pushed her away. And she was the one who had continued it. It was her fault, all her fault, that she was going through this. Biting her lip, Hermione tried not to think about what Severus was doing. She also tried not to remember how it had felt to press her face into his chest and know that his nose was buried in her hair.

Even Crookshanks kept his distance, obviously not willing to get soaked beneath the downpour of tears that tricked from her eyes. She took several hours to fall asleep, and when she did, she was still crying.

When she woke in the morning and looked in the mirror, she hated what she saw. Not only was she a mess from her tearful explosion of emotion the night before, but now every flaw seemed to stand out. Her jaw wasn't feminine enough, and it curved in an ugly way. Her nose was too big for her face. One eye was larger than the other, she was sure. Her eyebrows were bushy, her curly hair was too thick and she was suddenly convinced it was funny colour. Her lips were too small and too pale. Her skin was so pale and white it was mortifying. Her body wasn't beautiful, either; her shoulders were too broad and her hips stuck out in angles rather than curves.

Her face fell and she started to cry again. No wonder Severus wasn't interested. What could _she_ offer? She was hideous. And she fell back into bed, deciding that she wouldn't get up until the following morning when she absolutely had to.

She knew her absence at breakfast was missed. She knew they were getting worried when lunch was finished and she never showed once. And they would probably be talking, telling each other that they hadn't seen her all day and realizing that no one had. Multiple times, there was a knock at the door, but she ignored it.

Meanwhile, Severus was miserable all day as well. There was a terrible pain in his chest, but he knew that it wasn't from something physically wrong with him. When Hermione missed breakfast, he felt bad about pushing her away. Of course he regretted doing that. Didn't she realize how much he had come to care about her? He closed his eyes; her hand had been warm and comforting on his cheek. That was something he'd never experienced before. And her lips were so soft, and warm, and when they'd met his it was as if she could tell him everything she'd ever wanted to with just a single kiss. Did she have any idea that the day before in the dungeon had been the first time he'd kissed anyone or been kissed? Both had happened.

When she didn't make it to lunch he became paranoid. He had been so sure that her feelings for him would pass quickly and she'd be right back on her feet. But here she was, a no-show again at dinner. The other teachers had turned to McGonagall, but she'd said to leave the young woman alone; it was probably another letter from Weasley or something that had happened back at the Burrow. Severus felt even worse because he thought he knew the real source of her anguish. And he was right.

At last, he went down to the kitchen and found the house elves. Among them was Kreacher, who Severus knew belonged to Harry but was also following orders from Hermione. "Kreacher," he said quietly, "your mistress is ill and hasn't come from her room all day. You ought to take her some hot tea and stay with her until she dismisses you."

He wasn't sure how the elf would react, but Kreacher puffed up his chest importantly and nodded. "Kreacher will do this. And Kreacher will tell Miss Granger that Mister Snape has sent him."

"No," Severus hissed urgently. "Do not tell her that I sent you."

The elf looked confused. "Surely Miss Granger will ask."

"Then tell her that you cannot tell."

The elf looked at him for a long moment and then nodded. He bowed before disapparating. Severus walked back to his rooms, pleased that Kreacher had done as he had urged. He paused at his own door, turning to look at the one beside the fire, with the twisting otter carved into it, before entering his rooms and shutting out the world. How soon would she recover from what he'd said? He already hated himself for the pain he'd caused. He should have just told her that there could be nothing between them, and then there would never have been the kissing and the holding . . .

Severus felt almost as he had when Lily had been killed; as if his heart was ripped from his chest and there was a gaping, burning hole there that threatened to tear him apart at any moment. He knew that Hermione still lived, but she was lost, no longer his, and never would be again. Even if she wanted to be his, he would refuse. He must. It was all for her.

And so once again, Severus Snape gave up something that meant much to him, for the good of others. Always, for the good of others. With Lily, with Potter, with Dumbledore, and now, with Hermione. His chest ached when he thought of her, and he laid there in pain because she was everything that was on his mind. He whispered her name and then fell silent, waiting, lying there in misery until he fell asleep.

Hermione was lying in bed and jumped when Kreacher appeared with a loud _crack, _carrying a tray with steaming tea on it. "Kreacher?" she sniffed.

He set the tray on the edge of the bed and bowed low. "Kreacher was told that Mistress was unwell and came to bring Mistress tea."

Hermione nodded. She was sure McGonagall or Pomona or perhaps even Neville had sent the house elf. "Who sent you, Kreacher?" she asked.

He swallowed and was silent. "Did they tell you not to tell me?"

The elf nodded.

Hermione was tired of not knowing things. "Kreacher, please tell me who it was." She knew that even if they'd asked, their request to remain unknown was not binding.

The house elf looked like he wanted to tell, but also didn't.

Finally Hermione could take it no longer. "Kreacher, I order you to tell me who it was."

The elf swallowed and said something too quietly for Hermione to hear.

"Again," she ordered. "Louder."

The elf looked up at her with watery eyes and said loudly, "Mister Snape came into the kitchen and told Kreacher that Mistress was unwell and had not left her room. He asked Kreacher to bring Mistress tea."

Hermione stared at him. Her eyes were swimming with tears, and they spilled over her cheeks. The house elf looked as if he feared that she might be angry, but she shook her head. "Thank you, Kreacher. Thank you."

The elf nodded and waited for her next order.

"You may go whenever you like, Kreacher. Thank you," Hermione said. He nodded and disapparated.

Hermione's tears were a mixture of pain and relief. So Severus did care. Even if he didn't want to be with her, he cared about her as she had cared about him while he was dying; he wanted her to be well, but there was nothing more. That knowledge was enough to stop her tears and allow her to fall asleep clutching her pillow, sniffing as the peaceful and painful feelings of the day faded away and she drifted off to sleep.

**Okay, everyone, please tell me what you think of this! I found enough time to write it today which makes me happy because I was excited to get here, but also (for obvious reasons) kind-of-really sad for Hermione. Ha ha. But here's the big chapter and I hope you enjoyed reading it! Two chapters in a day! Wow I feel so accomplished! Remember to review if you have time and thanks for reading (but seriously, please review because I want to know how you like this chapter)! Love you all so very much! ~Taelr**


	14. Always

Hermione sighed and reread the first sentence of the essay she was supposed to be grading. But once again, none of it registered in her mind; it was just words on a page. Biting her lip, she blinked several times, trying in vain to actually absorb what her student had written. But again, she failed. Sitting back her chair, she let her head fall against the back of it and stared up at the ceiling. The next time she bent over the essay she noticed drops of liquid on the parchment and realized she'd been crying. Lifting her wand and removing her tears from the paper, she tried to clear her mind and begin again.

It had been two weeks since she'd gone to the dungeon and to the potions classroom looking for answers and eventually kissed Severus instead. Two weeks since he had pushed her away and told her that they could never be together. Two weeks of misery, during which she had put a smile on her face and actually emerged from her rooms. To everyone else, she was perfectly fine. Or so she thought.

Severus was keeping a close eye on her, and he saw the things that the others didn't; she bit her lip more often than usual, was constantly lost in thought and sitting pensively, worked harder than she ever had before, and if anyone had known to look for the signs of a depressed person in Hermione's behavior, he was sure they would notice it too. She was miserable, depressed, and obviously experiencing a great amount of emotional pain.

Severus wanted so very badly to take back what he'd said, to tell her that he wanted nothing more than to be with her, to feel her soft lips against his and hold her small, lovely frame in his arms again. He was sitting behind his desk in the potions classroom, and he found himself staring at the place where he'd first kissed Hermione, and then, not far away at all, where she'd kissed him. Turning away and averting his gaze, he stopped looking at the spot and tried to focus on the stack of foot-long essays on his desk, but to no avail. He could only hope that she would stop being miserable and give up on him soon; it would lessen his pain. However, he was now fully aware of just how much he had come to care for the young transfiguration teacher, and he knew that just as he had loved Lily all those years before, so he would love Hermione, watching from a distance as she grew up, got married, and had her own family. But now there was no dark lord to threaten her life and Severus was able to rest in the fact that she and her family might just have a happy ending unlike Lily's.

Hermione had already finished her last class for the day, and she had a while before she had to make it to dinner. Eventually giving up on grading essays, she shoved the stack of parchment into a drawer and folded her arms on the desk, letting her head fall into them. She didn't cry, not then; only sighed and let her body go limp. She was trying to become numb, but failing as she had every day since the week after her birthday, when this misery had begun.

She wanted it to end. She wanted to just let Severus go, forget about him, move on. But she couldn't. It seemed that no matter how much she wanted to forget the way she felt, she could not. But she could do nothing about it; she couldn't go back and tell him that she cared far too much to let him go, because he didn't feel that way about her so it would be a waste of time.

Someone knocked on the open door to announce their presence and she lifted her head, tensing when she saw who it was. "Yes?"

His dark eyes regarded her coldly, but even she caught the glint in them; he was searching, observing, watching carefully. But for what, Hermione could not tell. "Dinner started without you and I was sent to see where you were."

Severus stood in the door way, calculating everything she did. Yes, she was still in misery. He watched as she nodded absently, her mind on other things. Her beautiful eyes even seemed to have a duller look to them as she let her gaze drift over him. Then their gazes met again and he noted the longing in her eyes. But her body was still limp and she was looking dejected. She was still beautiful, but looking so miserable that he wondered how the others had all failed to notice her present state.

"The headmistress would like you to join us at dinner," he said at last. The words came more quietly than he had intended.

She sat up straight, pulled out her unfinished stack of essays which needed grading, and said without looking up at him, "I'm not hungry, thanks," before she started reading essays. She was able to absorb what she was reading this time, and actually began grading the papers.

Severus leaned against the doorframe and watched her for a moment. McGonagall hadn't really sent him; he had noticed Hermione's absence and come to find her himself. He had stopped by her classroom and if she hadn't been there he would have gone to her door in the teachers' lounge and asked after her. He watched her. Head bent over her work, lips moving as she silently said every word she read, quill scratching something on the top of the parchment in dark ink when she had finished reading each essay. Had she not been behind the teacher's desk and grading papers, he would had sworn she looked just as she had back in her years as a student; reading carefully, absorbing and memorizing every word, and diligently taking notes. He closed his eyes; this was where she belonged, living her own life without him.

Hadn't he just agreed with himself that she looked like a student? Like a little girl? He had watched her go through school, had deducted points from her house, had taught her, since she was eleven years old. Hadn't he already determined that she was far too young? Then why was his chest aching as it always did when she crossed his mind? Why was he longing to rush to her side, to get down on his knees and tell her the truth—that he cared—and beg for her forgiveness? If he had already accepted that he was old enough to be her father, then why did he want so badly to hold her in his arms again? To kiss her lips? To do anything and everything in his power to make her happy?

He watched her for longer than he had intended. Hermione looked up, and there he stood. She was surprised to find him there still; she had thought he'd left right after she dismissed the idea of dinner. It occurred to her that if the headmistress had sent him, he'd have left by now. Setting her quill down and pushing the essay she'd just finished grading aside, she looked up at him, folding her arms across her chest. "She didn't send you?" But it was more of a statement than a question.

He said nothing, just looked at her in silence. To say that the headmistress had sent him would be an outright lie, and he suddenly felt quite unable to lie to the young woman looking up at him. But to agree with her suspicions was to let his plan of keeping her safe fail, and he would not allow that to happen. He turned and walked away, saying nothing.

Hermione went back to grading papers. She managed to absorb what she was reading and grade it with half of her mind and think about Severus with the other half. Her heart ached. He had been so close, and she had wanted so badly to be near to him, but he did not feel as she did. He cared, hadn't she determined that earlier? He cared about her general wellbeing, though it was nothing more and he did not love her. He could never love her. He had only come alone and without McGonagall's orders because he wanted to see why she had missed the meal. That was all. There could be no more.

She sighed. Was that why he had seemed to look her over so carefully, as if he was searching for something? Was he making sure she was well, or was there something more in his eyes that she had been unable to detect? She went back to grading papers, but try as she might, she could not get Severus out of her mind.

Over the next week, Hermione missed dinner nearly every night, but was there for breakfast and lunch. McGonagall accepted her excuse that homework needed grading and there were no complaints from the other staff members. Ginny stopped by the transfiguration classroom sometimes when she had a moment, and she would sit down in the closest student's desk and they would talk for a while. Sometimes Neville and Ginny would both come, and then the three of them would talk for as long as they had. Several times Neville had even skipped dinner to spend some time with Hermione, whether he was helping her with grading papers or going through class supplies or just talking to her. Her talks with her friends cheered her up, but as soon as they were gone her mind would always drift back to Severus. _Always_.

But that week held more than one surprise for Hermione as well. Severus gave up stopping by to see why she was missing dinner after the first two days, but after that, strange things started happening. Kreacher started to bring Hermione tea and biscuits every evening in her classroom. On the weekend, when she missed breakfast, he would bring a tray of food to her room. He performed other kind services as well, and all without her ordering him to. Eventually she asked him who had put him up to it, and was surprised to find out that it was Severus. She was getting suspicious by the end of the week, with just an inkling that perhaps Severus did care more than he was letting on. Could he be trying to convince her that he didn't care because he didn't want her to care about him, even though he knew she did?

That night Hermione dreamt that she was going through everything with Severus all over again, but she was seeing things from his point of view. She woke up in the middle of the night, sitting up and staring into the darkness. "He cares," she breathed. "He doesn't think himself worthy!"

By Friday evening, small happenings at the meals and whenever she saw Severus had fulfilled her suspicions. She finished grading homework early and made it to the Great Hall before dinner started. Everyone seemed genuinely surprised to see her, as she'd been missing dinner so often before. She smiled as she sat down beside Severus' empty seat. He had fooled her, lied to her, had her convinced, but only for so long. He did care, and simply thought himself unworthy and undeserving of her. She was in fact furious with him for this.

Severus entered the Great Hall. As always, his eyes traveled immediately to the seat beside his own, in the hope that he would find Hermione there. He already knew that she wouldn't be . . . and yet, there, sitting straight and smiling down at her students, was the very young woman he had expected to be holed up in her classroom or her bedroom and skipping the meal. Her presence at dinner was a pleasant surprise for Severus, but at the same time he knew how much it would kill him to be so close to her throughout the meal, while still so very far away. He watched her carefully out of the corner of his eye and noticed that her smile was in fact genuine and the light was back in her eyes. The dread that had been growing within him seemed to envelope him; so this was it, today was the day she had at last let him go and moved on. He had wanted this, for her, but had also waited in dismay for it to happen.

Hermione saw the figure dressed in all black and watched his approach. She forced herself to turn back to her smiling, sometimes even waving, student, and smiled back at them. When she tried to find Severus in the many faces of the Great Hall once more, though, he had gone. Then he was taking his seat beside her. "Good evening, Severus," she said, her tone of voice both sweet and brittle; she was overjoyed and very upset with him at her discovery of the truth.

He turned and gazed at her for a long moment, and his eyes turned the darkest brown she'd seen yet, and were filled with longing and sorrow. Then they were back to being cold and black, and he said, "Good evening."

If he thought she never noticed how he avoided using her name, he was mistaken. The only time he'd called her _Hermione _was just before he'd said the words that broke her heart and made her miserable. Now, however, she brushed off his lack of personal talk and went back to smiling at her students. She did not expect him to speak or push the conversation farther, but he asked, "And to what do we owe your presence at dinner this evening?"

Hermione turned back to him. As she did, she noticed two girls at the Gryffindor table below pointing to her and Severus and whispering among themselves, giggling over something. Hermione smiled as she watched them from the corner of her eye for a few seconds before looking at Severus. "I haven't felt too well the past several weeks and now it has passed," she said, eyeing him to gauge his reaction.

He nodded and turned back to his food, muttering, "and that fact pains me greatly," under his breath. His words were for his own ears and no one else's, but Hermione heard. She pretended not to and feigned interest in what Neville was saying as he sat down on her other side.

After the meal Hermione waited until the students were leaving. It was after they'd mostly left that the majority of the staff would go to the dungeons. She walked with the group, keeping a careful eye on Severus, lest he slip away. She got what she wished for, because while the rest of the staff entered the teachers' lounge through the secret passage, Severus continued along the corridor and turned the corner. Hermione knew he was going to his office or his classroom, and she guessed that he would be there for a while. Smiling to herself, she went to her rooms and glanced in the mirror. She didn't seem so horrid-looking as she had the day he'd pushed her away. In fact, now she was rather pleased with her appearance. Nodding to herself, she put her wand back in her robes and left her rooms.

The teachers' lounge was empty yet again, or so she thought at first glance; Flitwick was in the corner at the desk, pouring over some ancient text on charms. He didn't look up when she walked by or left. She walked the corridor as Severus had not too long before, and turned the corner, walking along the hall until she reached the wooden door there. It was half open as it had been the last time she'd come uninvited. She peered around it, making sure that Severus was alone in his classroom, and walked in, closing the door quietly behind her; this was not a conversation she wished anyone to overhear.

Severus had his back to her when she entered, but he had seen her reflection in the many jars and flasks of potions and magical items preserved in multicolored goo. "Yes?" he asked, much with the same bored tone of voice she had used to greet him days before in her own classroom.

Hermione was silent. This was it, she was going to have to be bold if she wanted to get her point across, and if she wanted to properly convey the message she had.

Severus turned and glared at her. "What is it, Miss Granger?"

She held her head high and met his gaze, not lowering her eyes. "I could ask you the same, _Professor_ _Snape_."

He scowled. "I thought I told you to call me _Severus_."

"I thought I told you to call me _Hermione_."

The crease between his brows deepened. "What do you want, _Hermione_?" he sneered.

Hermione felt a smile tugging at her lips. No matter how unkindly he'd just said it, the sound of him saying her name was enough to give her the courage to go on. "You lied to me," she said simply.

He narrowed his eyes. "I did no such thing."

Hermione laughed humorlessly. "You're lying right now."

He growled, but said nothing.

Hermione would have been terrified if she was a student, but, she reminded herself, now she was a teacher. She was his colleague. She was the one he cared about. "You lied," she said again, and for the first time a bit of emotion crept into her voice. She could feel her grip on her emotions slipping away; her idea of coming and yelling at him was melting into the desire to simply throw herself, sobbing, into his arms.

"What, pray do tell, did I lie about?" he asked, his voice cold.

"You"—she realized that he'd never actually said he didn't care, only made it obvious with his actions—"you made it apparent that you care about my general wellbeing, but were clear that there was nothing more."

Severus watched her carefully. She was getting emotional and her strength was ebbing away. "And you think that I don't care about your general wellbeing?" he asked, ignoring the second part of what she'd said.

She smirked at him, and he was shocked. She was _smirking_? _Now_? He was suddenly very afraid that something was wrong. "No." Her voice rang out, still strong and clear. But then it fell to being quiet and she said softly, "But I know that you care . . . about me . . . more than that."

Severus was panicking. She _knew_? How could she know? He had to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about. It was the only way. "Do I?" he asked, his voice still cold.

"Yes, you do," she said calmly. Then, looking rather upset, she added, "and you can stop playing around and just admit it because I know! I know that you care! I know it!"

He stared at her.

She went on without waiting for him to say anything. "And I know that you lied to me, made me think that you didn't care, not because you wanted to hurt me, but because you wanted to protect me. You don't think yourself worthy of me. You want me to grow up, and find someone my own age, and have a family, and have some wonderful life that doesn't involve you."

He was still staring at her, but his eyes weren't cold any longer. She was right, of course. Though how she knew . . .

Her voice broke and she blinked back tears, taking several shaky steps towards him. She looked up into his face, tears filling her eyes as she spoke. "But I also know," she said softly, her voice cracking with emotion, "that I could never have any of that with anyone . . . but you."

He stood, trembling now, wanting so badly to close the space between them and hold her while she cried, but he could not. No, he reminded himself. He had to let her go. It was for her own good. He had to hurt her. She was weak now, she was vulnerable. The right words said and she would flee from him. It would hurt her, she would be in emotional pain for a while, but she would make it through. And she would be better off without him. "Get out," he said, his voice cold and cruel.

"No." Her lower lip trembled, tears were brimming in her eyes, and her voice shook, but she stood straight and looked him in the eye when she said it.

"Out, Granger," he said sharply. When she stayed where she was he moved quickly, closer, until their faces were very close. He spoke very slowly and with as much malice as he could put into his voice. "I do not care about you. I do not love you." Then he said brusquely, "Now get out of my classroom, you foolish, foolish little girl."

More tears filled her eyes, and spilled over her cheeks. Her lip trembled. She put her hand on the desk beside her and leaned on it for support. "N- no," she whispered, but her voice quavered and she looked pleadingly up at him.

"Out," he said coldly.

She bit her lip and shook her head. She couldn't have been wrong, could she?

Seeing how unsteady she was on her feet, he forced his face into a scowl and grabbed her shoulder roughly, steering her towards the door. He gave her a gentle push and she stumbled into the hall. She mouthed his name, tried to speak, but no words would come. He stepped out the door and closed it loudly behind him. Then he turned, making sure that she saw him roll his eyes before he walked towards the teachers' lounge, strutting away from her just as he had so often strutted away from Potter after being especially cruel to the boy.

Hermione watched him go. He didn't look back. His cloak billowed behind him and his shoulder-length raven black hair reflected the little light in the hall. Then he turned the corner and was gone. Hermione stumbled backward until her back hit the stone wall. She slid down it until her knees were pulled up to her chest and she was on the cold floor. He didn't care, couldn't care, wouldn't care. She bit her lip, wrapping her arms around her knees and setting her forehead on them, rocking back and forth. Silent sobs shook her frame, hot, angry, painful tears poured down her cheeks, and she tried to curl into as tight a ball as was possible.

Severus walked through the lounge, not even glancing sideways at Flitwick, who had been entering his room and looked up when he walked in. As soon as he was through his door and it was closed behind him he leaned against it and sank to the ground much as Hermione had, though he didn't pull his knees up to his chest. He ran his hands over his face and pulled at his hair. How he hated himself. The look in her eyes when he'd said what he did and rolled his eyes at her. He had known enough that it would be unwise to look back as he walked away, but it had been very hard to look straight ahead. At the same time, he had not wanted to see her face, and the pain that he himself had etched into it, again.

For the first time since Lily's death, Severus cried. Hot tears pooled in his eyes and ran over, sliding down his cheeks. He leaned against the door and covered his face with his hands, shoulders shaking, chest heaving, as the liquid ran down his face.

He felt so helpless. Helpless to make her his, helpless to comfort her, helpless to change the way he felt. But worse than his feeling of helplessness was the knowledge that Hermione would not move on and let him go. It was best for her to be away from him, without him, in her life. She was the brightest witch of her age and had a beautiful life ahead of her. Even if she didn't let him go, perhaps she would be able to still have that wonderful life _without_ love. Severus was sure of only one thing; Hermione Granger would be better off without him in her life.

He was old. His hair was long, greasy, and unkempt. He was a criminal, who would possibly go to Azkaban if the Wizengamot tried him and found him guilty. He did not know how to treat her; she was the first person he'd ever kissed, and he had no experience anywhere else with such matters. He did not know what to do with someone who cared about him. He could not offer her a happy home; Spinner's End was hardly a cheery setting to bring a wife home to. He could not offer her a good life; his job at Hogwarts and making potions for Saint Mungo's and other apothecaries paid him little, and it was only enough for him to live on. He could not give her a family; he was able to father children, but he rather hated kids.

Severus stood and changed, collapsing on his bed and wondering if Hermione had left the hall yet. Even if someone did find her there, he was not worried; she would make up a believable reason for her to be there. She was, after all, the brightest witch of her age.

Hermione sat, curled up on the cold, hard stone floor, for a very long time. She finally straightened, rising on unsteady legs, and walking back to the teachers' lounge. Flitwick had gone to bed and the lounge was empty, for which she was thankful. She entered her rooms and changed into her pajamas, flicking her wand to turn out the lights and setting it on the bedside table. Then she crumpled onto her bed and pulled the blankets over her head. She wanted to block out the world, to forget the terrible things it had done to her. Curling up into a ball once more, she cried into her pillow until she fell asleep.

She didn't leave her room for the next two days, but there was no need; Saturday and Sunday were the weekend. No one knocked on the door; they all assumed she was just tired from her week of teaching and needed some rest. Kreacher came at mealtimes with small bowls of steaming broth, as if he knew she wouldn't eat anything else because she didn't want to do anything. He brought her tea between mealtimes and would fetch whatever book from the shelves that she asked for. And then he would sit on the end of her bed and watch her, looking unhappy. Hermione didn't notice, but the house elf actually seemed concerned for her wellbeing. This was something new for Kreacher. He fingered the locket that hung on a gold chain around his neck, the locket that had belonged to his original master, Regulus Black.

But Hermione noticed little about the house elf, not even fully registering that he stayed with her throughout the day, leaving only to fetch her food or tea, and even then he was back in a moment. His being there only made her unhappy, though she wasn't in the least displeased with him; she knew who had sent him to care for her. Curled up in bed, not wanting Monday and classes to come, she glared at the open book she was trying to read, not seeing any of the words on it. She had decided something very important since Kreacher had begun coming to care for her; she hated Severus Tobias Snape with every fiber in her being. He was taunting her now, pretending to care by sending Kreacher when he had flat out told her that he didn't.

She could never stop herself from loving him, she knew. But she could hate him at the same time as love him. And now she was loving him against her will. Though she refused to accept it, deep down she knew that as she hated Severus with every fiber in her being, so she loved him. She would always be drawn to him, always want to be near him and with him, always desire his love in return, but she would never accept it. And she would always hate him for making her this way. Always.

**Sorry this one is so short, but I've already started working on the next and it should be up soon. I find myself getting unhappy and emotional as I write these, and while I want to write them well enough that you do too, I also am hating myself because of this part of the story! Thank you all for sticking with the story so far and I promise, there are many more chapters to come and things will get better . . .eventually . . . **

**On that _happy_ note, I'll say thank you to all who have reviewed, it is very much appreciated! Please remember that every single review I recieve makes me a better writer because I'm getting what you think, so if you have time, leave a note on how you liked the story (or perhaps even in this case, how you hated it)! Lots of love! ~Taelr**


	15. It Is Enough

Severus was going through a living hell. He hated everything. Nothing pleased him. None of his students were able to satisfy him during classes. He avoided anything that reminded him of Hermione when he could help it, but he was surrounded by such things, and failed miserably at every turn. Any student who was in Gryffindor grew to hate the potions master again, though they had tried not to after what he did for the war. He was savagely cruel to any student from Gryffindor house, because they reminded him of _her_. The other houses just reminded him that there was a Gryffindor house, which of course, led to thoughts about _her_. Any female student made him think of _her_ and any male student made him hate them simply because they still had their whole lives ahead of them and they would certainly find love, but he never could.

Furthermore, he could never hate _her_, because this was not _her_ fault. So his wrath was unleashed on anyone but _her_. As well as failing to avoid thoughts of her when she herself wasn't there, mealtimes and staff meetings and Quidditch matches and any other kind of gathering was sure to bring her presence. Even more than he hated the fact that she could never be his, he hated himself. While he knew that she herself was in misery and did not want her to suffer alone, he wished he could be cold and cruel and just forget his love for her. But the very sight of her was torture. Even when her face was one in a sea of others, his eyes were drawn to her of their own accord and he could always find her, and it seemed that she was always, even now, in her misery, the most beautiful thing he had ever and would ever see. When she was near him—as she was at every meal because of the seating arrangement—he could feel her presence and it was like a warm glow. However, he was unable to enjoy the warmth, because it only caused him pain.

More than he hated the way he felt, he hated himself for what he had done to her. She did not come out of her room for meals or anything on the weekends, unless there was a staff meeting and it was absolutely necessary. She came from her room every morning on weekdays and walked straight to breakfast, often walking with Longbottom and talking to him amiably. She actually looked happy and healthy during her time with him. They would go to the Great Hall and sit down, and she would offer the potions teacher a stilted, "Good morning, Severus," to which he would nod stiffly and reply, "Good morning."

Then she would undergo the torture of sitting so close to him throughout the meal, rising to leave as soon as she had eaten. She would leave the Great Hall and go straight to her classroom alone, where she would grade papers or do whatever she must until her first class of students came. He had checked on her—without her knowledge, of course—throughout the day multiple times, and every time it was the same. She would clean the papers off the floor between classes and start grading homework. If that failed to take up the time she had, she would sit pensively, staring at nothing in particular with her eyes unfocused. Severus had seen her like this so many times, and no matter how much he tried not to believe himself, he knew her thoughts were of him at those times.

She would go to lunch in the Great Hall, going through yet another struggle that was painfully obvious to Severus, but completely undetected by the others, staff or student. She would eat and leave as soon as she had finished, getting back to her classroom immediately. When classes were over for the day she would have some free time and grade whatever homework there was, cleaning the classroom and leaving for dinner in the Great Hall. Again, she would experience torture at being so near to Severus, and left as soon as she was finished eating. This time, however, she would go straight to her rooms in the teachers' quarters in the dungeons and disappear for the night.

Severus had watched her carefully since she'd come to his classroom for the second time and he had pushed her away again. The knowledge that she had in fact realized his lies and his reasons behind them made him ache even more, because she had come so close to the truth and he had been forced to push her away yet again. He had spied on her the first couple of days and knew her routine. The only place he had never watched her was her rooms, and even if he had been sick enough to try to break into her privacy, there were protective enchantments in the walls to stop him. Of course, he'd never even let it cross his mind to watch her there, because that was her own space and he had no right to intrude.

Hermione was going through just as much hell as Severus was. She was just as depressed and miserable as he, though she never dreamed of taking it out on her students. And she never feared taking it out on him. She hated him so very much now, but it didn't seem to reduce the amount that she loved him at all. And she hated herself because of it. She wanted nothing to do with the potions master, and at the same time everything to do with the man. She hated anything that reminded her of him—though most everything did—and avoided him at all cost when she could. But even as she avoided him, she was drawn to him and longed to be near him.

She was completely unaware of the fact that he had spied on her. As far as she knew, he could care less how she felt and despised her for throwing herself at him as she had. She thought he hated her for _caring_. But even as she was unaware of his careful watch being kept on her, he was unaware that she often wandered the dungeon at night, lost in thought. During those times, she was always under a disillusionment charm and constantly throwing glances over her shoulder and pointing her wand away from her, whispering the counter charm to be sure she had no unwanted follower.

And so another month passed, with both of them severely depressed and miserable, only escaping the pain from the seemingly gaping holes torn through their chests when they slept at night. And even then, they were only free of the aches and pains when their dreams held each other, but the arguments and the hate and the hurt were gone.

Hermione sipped tea and tried to read _the_ _Daily_ _Prophet_, which she'd spread across the bed in front of her. Kreacher stood on the trunk at the foot of the bed, watching her. He fingered the locket on his chest and clutched the wooden bedpost. Hermione looked past the paper at him and asked, "Kreacher, what are you doing?"

He bowed his head, looking back up before he said, "Kreacher is watching."

"And what are you watching for?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. She had heard it every day for a month, but for some reason she found solace in the house elf's next words.

"As Kreacher has told mistress many times before, Kreacher is watching his mistress at the request of Mister Snape."

She decided to question him further after this, though she never had before. "And do you know _why_ he wants you to watch me?"

Kreacher looked at her steadily, his eyes watery. The long white hair growing out of his ears swayed slightly as he lower his chin to look at her better. "Kreacher," he said slowly, "does not know Mister Snape's intentions. But Kreacher does know that mister Snape worries for Mistress' being well. Mister Snape comes to the kitchens to ask Kreacher about Mistress' health nearly every night."

This was new information. Hermione had never questioned the elf further than why he was watching her. "H- he asks after me?" Hermione asked, surprised.

The elf nodded. "Yes, Mistress," he said, repeating, "Mister Snape asks Kreacher about Mistress' health nearly every night."

"And you say he worries for me?"

"Yes," he said, bowing his head.

Hermione fell silent, her eyes unfocusing once more. She stared at the elf but did not see.

Meanwhile, Severus was in the teachers' lounge, on his way to the Great Hall for dinner. Hermione hadn't showed for any of the meals that day, but it was Saturday, so her absence could only be expected. And yet he found himself turning to gaze at her door, wishing that she would open it and enter the lounge but also wanting her to stay in her rooms and away from him.

Sighing, he turned and left the lounge, making his way to the Great Hall. As he walked up the stairs he remembered how, at the beginning of the summer, he had been too weak even to walk up those steps without Hermione's careful, patient assistance. It was because of her he was alive, he reminded himself. But he hated that; if he had died she would still be with Weasley, or with some other young man, not longing for the love of one who was old enough to be her own father. If he had died, then neither of them would feel as they did now. Had he been deranged enough to consider suicide, it would only have ended _his_ suffering; Hermione would never let him go, even if he died, and he knew it. Loathing life itself and the existence of love or emotions, he entered the Great Hall and wiped grins off of students' faces with a murderous glare.

He sat in his usual place, noting that, as always on the weekends and in Hermione's absence, Longbottom flinched upon his approach because Hermione was not there between them. "Good evening, Longbottom," Severus said coldly.

"Er, e- evening, s- sir," the young man stammered, white in the face and looking terrified.

Pleased that he had thoroughly frightened the boy, Severus turned back to his plate, and watched as the headmistress sat after addressing the students. Then food appeared on all of the tables and the meal began. Severus ate, though he had no appetite, as always, and when he had finished he left the table and walked towards the staff rooms. He was so shocked when he turned the familiar corner after the stairs that he stopped in his tracks.

Hermione was rushing down the corridor, the hood of her cloak pulled over her head, hurrying towards the stairs. It was obvious she was going out of the castle, because she was wearing gloves and a scarf along with her cloak.

Without really knowing why, Severus stepped in front of her. She saw him just in time to stop without running into him. She looked up and her face turned white, and she stumbled back a few steps. Severus would have felt a savage pleasure at this reaction to his presence had she been a student, but now it was like something had torn the wounds in his chest wide open once again. Seeing her stumble away from him as she did, he flashed back to when she had come careening around a corner all those weeks before and rushed right into him. That had been back at the start of this misery. Still having no clue why he did it, he said coldly, "Going somewhere, Granger?"

Her eyes were wide, and her cheeks were still unnaturally pale. She blinked rapidly and said, seeming to regain her ability to speak, "Yes." She looked a bit more recovered from her shock of meeting him, but her voice was still meek and quiet.

"And where might that be?" he asked.

"To Saint Mungo's, if you must know," she said, sounding a bit irritated for once.

"Your parents?" he asked.

She nodded. "And Neville's," she added.

He narrowed his eyes, brow creasing. Longbottom would accompany her? Just as he raised his eyebrows at her, the very person they were speaking of entered the corridor from the secret entrance to the teachers' lounge. Severus glared at him with loathing when he walked up, standing nervously beside Hermione. It was obvious that he only felt safe around Severus when she was there. "Longbottom," Severus said shortly.

"S- sir," he greeted him in return.

Severus growled and swept past them. He had to exercise all of his willpower to keep walking past Hermione, because as he passed, her scent caught him full in the face and he wanted so badly to turn and enjoy it. So Longbottom was going to Saint Mungo's with her . . . Severus didn't know what he thought of that. Part of him was insanely jealous of the boy, and part of him was thoroughly abhorred with the idea of being alone with Hermione for any length of time. Sighing, he glimpsed them out of the corner of his eye as he turned to enter the teachers' lounge. They were walking side by side, rather quickly, towards the stairs.

Hermione spent only an hour with her parents and Neville's. The healer there was kind enough to allow them the late evening visit but could only give them a short amount of time. They were thankful all the same. When Hermione got back to the school, all was quiet. All of the students were in bed or in their common rooms, and the teachers were either in their rooms or patrolling the halls. They passed Filch in one of the corridors on their way to the dungeons, and at first he thought they were students. He ran forward, waving the lantern in his hand and screaming, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS IN THE CORRIDORS!"

His face fell when he found that they were in fact teachers, but Neville looked scared to death of him in spite of this. "W- we weren't doing anything wrong," the young man stuttered, but Hermione interrupted.

"Good evening, Argus," she said sweetly.

The groundskeeper looked taken aback. "Er, evenin'," he mumbled as he walked away.

"Neville," she scolded her friend gently when they were on their way again. "You need to stop thinking like a student. Argus and Severus and all of them are our colleagues now, not our professors. They can't do anything to us." Even as she said the last sentence, she felt her heart ache. They could do nothing to Neville, but Severus had already done far too much to her.

They made it back to the lounge and nodded to one another without a word, going their separate ways to their rooms. Hermione had a surprisingly restful night, but she still woke in the morning wishing Severus was not so distant and that he loved her, as she had dreamed, and not hated her, as was reality.

She rose and bathed, dressing in comfortable muggle clothing because she would be spending the day in her room again. She didn't make her bed because she was going to climb right back into it, and magically dried her hair and brushed it before brushing her teeth. Then she did just as she had planned, climbing into bed and reading the parts of _the_ _Daily_ _Prophet_ that she hadn't paid much attention to the day before. Kreacher appeared soon enough with her usual morning tea, and a glance at the clock told her that breakfast would start soon enough in the Great Hall, though she would be missing it. "You may go," she told Kreacher, and smiled sadly without looking up. There was a _crack _as he disapparated and then all was quiet.

Crookshanks curled up in the blankets beside her, and she stroked his fur absently while she read the articles in the paper. When she had finished with _the Prophet_ she folded it and set it on the floor beside her bed, picking up and opening _the_ _Quibbler_. She got both magazines, though the one she was reading at the moment was always more enjoyable because Rita Skeeter was still writing for _the Prophet_. She did get both papers, though, just to see what the news was. She let herself get lost in an article about wrack spurts, though she had no idea what she was reading.

Severus left his rooms and found most of the other staff in the teachers' lounge. They filed out the door into the corridor beyond one by one, but something held him in the lounge until he was quite alone. He turned and looked towards the door beside the fireplace, the one with the graceful otter carved into its front. He had been through a month—and more—of hell because of the young woman who was sitting behind that door in her rooms. He guessed that she would be in bed, reading a book or a newspaper, scratching that orange cat behind the ears as she sipped tea.

He tried to walk out of the lounge, to the door—which was closed—but could not. He found himself rooted to the spot, staring at Hermione's door. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that he ought to get down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness because he had lied to her and broken her heart and put her through so much misery. But he couldn't do that; this was for her own good. The voice in the back of his head that had not bothered him for some time whispered to him.

_All your life, spent making sacrifices for others. Be selfish for once. Do something for yourself, Severus. You know she would accept your apology. You know you want to apologize. Be selfish. Accept her love. Do it._

As the last words faded in his mind, he gazed longingly at the door before him and suddenly realized that his feet had carried him there without his consent. He would do it. He would be selfish for once. He would forget about his decision to make her life better by forcing her to live without him and he would go and apologize to her.

He lifted his hand to knock.

Hermione looked up from the paper when someone rapped on the door. She glanced at the clock and frowned; everyone should be at breakfast. Getting out of bed, she walked to the door. She opened it halfway and stared in surprise at Severus, who was waiting for her to answer. "Severus?" she breathed in surprise.

His eyes were dark chocolate coloured again. She waited for him to say something. "May I come in?" the words were out of his mouth before he'd thought so say them.

Her shock was obvious in her expression. "W- what?"

"May I come in," he repeated, though his voice was gentle, and not cold.

Hermione opened the door wider in her surprise, wanting to be far away from him and also very close to him at the same time. He stepped inside and she closed the door behind him. Then she turned, looking at him expectantly. To her surprise, his eyes were welling up with tears. He did nothing to stop them or the color of his eyes, or the expression on his face. And at once, he had dropped onto his knees before her and grabbed her hands in his own, bowing his head and letting his forehead rest against the back of her hands. "I don't expect you to forgive me," he said, his voice cracking with emotion, "but I came to say that I am truly sorry."

Hermione was taken aback. She was too shocked to speak or to move. She stared at the top of his head, where his greasy hair shook and trembled along with the rest of him. He didn't wait for her to respond.

"You were right when you came to my classroom," he said hoarsely. "I lied. I made you think something that wasn't true. I loved you then, and I thought myself undeserving."

He didn't raise his head to look at her when she spoke. "I was right," she repeated softly, still staring at the top of his head. Her voice was hardly more than a whisper.

He nodded against her hand briefly. "You were right. You are right. I do love you, Hermione."

Tears were sliding down her cheeks now. "But if you thought yourself undeserving, then has your opinion changed or-"

"I think myself undeserving now," he cut in hoarsely.

"Then why . . .?"

He looked up into her face now, and tears were sliding down his own cheeks. "I needed to apologize and tell you the truth," he said, now whispering.

The part of her that hated him was taking over. "Well," she said, nodding towards the door expectantly, "You've apologized. I know the truth."

He looked as if she'd slapped him hard across the face. For once, his emotions were plainly visible in is expression. Hermione found disbelief, distress, and unfathomable pain there. "If you want me to leave," he said slowly, hoarsely, "then I will."

She bit her lip and swallowed, looking at him. The two sides of her were warring in her head; she loved him, but she also hated him. She shook her head hesitantly. "I . . ." but she never finished. He rose to his feet and stood before her, and now it was she who looked up into his face. His smell was all around her, and his face was still wet with tears. His eyes were the deepest, darkest, most beautiful chocolate she'd ever seen.

They stared at each other in silence for a few moments. And then one of the sides battling within Hermione's head became the victor. Severus could see this in her eyes, but he was unsure; which side had won?

He got his answer when, with a half gasp, half whimper, Hermione threw herself into his arms and began to cry. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. One of his hands stroked the ends of her soft curly hair that fell down her back, and he bowed his head and let his forehead rest on the top of her head, his nose buried in her hair. The relief he felt because she had accepted his apology and she still wanted him was overpowering. He realized he'd been holding his breath as he waited for her answer and now he let it out in a sigh. His chest heaved as he did, and his shoulders moved as well.

Hermione buried her face in his chest and cried until no more tears would come, clutching the edges of his cloak and so afraid to let go that she couldn't bring herself to loosen her grip even slightly. Severus noticed this, and said softly, "You can let go. I will not."

Sniffing, she loosened her hold, but did not let go of the fabric completely. His voice had sent vibrations across her scalp and left chills running down her spine. "Promise me," she whispered into his chest.

"I will not let you go," he whispered back, "not ever."

"Promise," she repeated softly.

He sighed deeply once more, and her head rose and fell with his chest. "I promise," he said at last.

She sighed into his chest, satisfied. Both of them knew that he would have to let her leave his arms at some point eventually, but there was more to the promise than the physical; he would never let her go—or try, anyways—again. He would always love her, and never leave her. She smiled into his clothes and raised her head to look up at him. He let his chin slip off of her head when she raised it, and he looked into her eyes. Then he lifted his hand and deftly brushed the tears from her cheeks with his fingers.

She sighed again, sniffing slightly and staring into his eyes, which were still like melted chocolate. She rested her cheek against his chest then, so that she could continue to look up into his face. The corners of his mouth twitched in a slight smile. She couldn't smile; she was too relieved to do anything other than watch him and pray that he wouldn't vanish and become nothing when she blinked and looked away for a split second.

She was a bit more than surprised when he bent down and actually swept her up into his arms, and she clutched at his shoulders, wide-eyed and bewildered as he carried her to the couch in front of the fire. He set her down first, in the middle of it, and then seated himself against the cushion and arm rest. He lifted his arm and set it on the back of the couch, inviting her closer. She didn't hesitate in the least and moved beside him, curling up against his side. He put his arm around her and pulled her more snugly against him. Hermione had no idea how long this would last, but all she knew was that she was there, in his arms, and she was surrounded by nothing but utter bliss and peacefulness.

She was surprised when Severus said quietly, "Call Kreacher."

Hermione didn't know what he was thinking, but she did not question him. "Kreacher," she said quietly, her voice a bit hoarse from the crying she'd just done. There was a loud _crack _and the elf appeared. His eyes widened at the sight of the two people curled up on the couch together. Hermione said, "Kreacher, you must tell no one of this," and the house elf nodded his large head, though he still looked surprised.

"Tell him to go and tell McGonagall that I'm not feeling well and will be in my rooms for the rest of the day. I do not wish to be disturbed." Severus said, looking at Hermione, though her eyes were on the elf.

"Kreacher, you will do as Severus has said; go tell the headmistress that he is ill and will stay in his rooms all day. Tell her he doesn't want to be disturbed."

The elf gazed at the two for a moment longer and then disapparated with another loud _crack_.

"You're staying?" Hermione asked, turning and gazing into Severus' eyes.

He stared at her steadily for a few moments and then said, "If that is what you want."

She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder and glancing down at his hands. The one was curled around her shoulder with his arm around her, but the other rested in his lap. She reached out and took it, pulling it into her own lap. His hand was large and very pale compared to hers. She was surprised by how soft it was, but then remembered that wizards never toiled like muggles did for a living, and that he was a potions master, not a farmer who used his hands on things that would harden them. She took his one hand in both of her own, lifting it and pressing his palm against her chest, just below her collar bone.

He raised an eyebrow at her, bemused and puzzled over this action. But she didn't notice and leaned against him, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of his heartbeat. Her head was on his shoulder, and he turned his head and pressed his lips against the top of her head. He looked down at their interlaced hands and smirked; both of hers could easily fit into his one. He set his chin on the top of her head and allowed himself to relax.

This was perfect; they could sit there together all day. Perhaps they would talk, maybe sit in silence for a while. They could even fall asleep curled up like this and both would be satisfied. There was no real need for words, no need for kisses or anything more than to simply be in one another's presence. It was enough. Severus found himself suddenly at peace, his mind free of worries or cares, and the hole in his chest seemed to have closed off for good. He let his head rest against Hermione's and closed his eyes as well.

Neither were sure when, but both drifted off at some point. It was Hermione who woke first. She looked up into his face and saw, for the first time, the younger Severus Snape shining through the older. His face was free of stress and worry, or concern of any kind. He was no longer stiff and cold, but warm and relaxed beside her. He looked peaceful as he slept. Then his eyes fluttered open and he was looking back at her. His face flushed slightly at first, and he was obviously uncomfortable to find that she'd been watching him sleep. A smile tugged at her lips.

"I took care of you and lived in the chair by your bed and fed you and bathed you when you were lying there, half naked and unable to take care of yourself, and here you're self-conscious about sleeping in front of me?" she asked.

The corners of his mouth turned up a bit as well.

"You slept in front of me then," Hermione insisted quietly.

He shook his head lightly. "I did in the last days before you healed me; I was too weak to help it. But before then, I would never sleep while you were awake and would only close my eyes."

Hermione felt her face colour slightly. She bit her lip.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Will you stop doing that?"

She was surprised. "Doing what?"

"Biting your lip. Why must you abuse it so?" he muttered, his voice harder than it had been only moments before.

She decided they could get back to his not sleeping later and smiled teasingly. "I suppose I do bite it often . . ." she said slowly.

"Often," he scoffed, "You never let the damned thing heal from your constant mishandling of it."

She laughed though his tone was harsh. "Mishandling," she repeated, smiling. Her eyes were shining with mirth and laughter, but he did not look amused in the least as she added, "Well, how am I supposed to treat my lips then?"

He raised his eyebrows at her and pulled his hand gently from her grip to brush a stray curl out of her eyes. Now there was something mysterious in _his _eyes. "Would it be quite all right if I showed you?" he asked after a moment of staring at her.

Her smile faded slowly, and this time she raised _her_ eyebrows. "Mhm," she nodded once.

He did not smile, but leaned forward until his nose touched hers and he leaned his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes. She had no idea how unsure of himself he was. This was only the third time he'd kissed, and he was completely inexperienced. He was very worried that he would disappoint her, sure that she'd snogged Weasley enough times to know what she was doing, though he hadn't even a clue. Apologizing with his eyes for his hesitation and in advance for his failure to please, he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against hers.

She had half expected him to kiss her after the way the conversation was going, but she was surprised by how hesitant he had been. Had that been actual fear in his eyes? She smiled; he must think himself inexperienced and unworthy once again. Annoyed with his constant misjudgment and ill appreciation of his own abilities, she kissed him back and wrapped her arms around his neck. He was slow, careful, almost cautious at first, before seemingly deciding that perhaps he wasn't quite as bad at this as he'd first thought.

It was the first time they'd kissed in nearly two months, and the first time since then that both were able to completely lose themselves in one another. They didn't care where they were, as long as they were alone. They had accepted who they themselves were, but it was more. Hermione accepted at last that she did truly love Severus Snape, no matter how much older than her he may be. Severus finally allowed himself to accept that he loved Hermione, though she may be younger and less mature at times.

When the kiss ended it wasn't truly awkward as much as the innocence of two people who were unsure of how to act then. Hermione giggled shyly and looked down, and Severus raised an eyebrow at her while another slight smile tugged at his lips. Hermione realized that she hadn't yet managed to get him to genuinely smile, and decided she ought to try. As a result, they spent the next few hours engaged in witty conversation.

Kreacher brought them lunch and then tea and scones in the middle of the afternoon. He also brought two trays of food for them to eat for dinner, and the two of them never left the couch in Hermione's study the entire time Severus was there. After each meal they would continue with the conversation, trying to outdo one another.

When at last they looked at the clock, it was after nine o'clock in the evening. "It will be empty," Severus said, referring to the lounge outside.

Hermione bit her lip as they stood and smiled when he scowled at her for it. Then her expression darkened.

"Are you quite all right?" Severus asked, walking to her and placing a hand on her cheek reluctantly. He was still very unsure of himself and awkward with these things, but he was learning to be bolder.

Hermione sighed. "I'm fine, I just . . ." she looked up into his face, "don't want you to go."

He nodded and said, "I am loath to leave, myself."

She gave a small smile, but he took his hand from her face and it faded.

"You realize that I am the potions master," he said, waiting for her to catch on.

She did. She remembered that in all of her years as a student, he had never been ill or unwell. She nodded slowly, waiting for him to finish.

"I cannot be ailing every weekend," he said, and she bit her lip again. He ignored it, irksome though he found it, and said, "No one can know of this, though I trust that you hadn't the mind to tell?"

She shook her head. "I won't tell."

He nodded. "I don't know how soon I will be alone with you long enough to give even a brief embrace."

She smiled small again and said, "But you will love me from afar. It is enough."

His eyes smiled, though his mouth did not, reminding Hermione that so far she had still failed to get a sincere, real smile from him. "That it is," he agreed. Then he kissed her gently, shortly but sweetly, and straightened. There was no one in the lounge, they were sure, but he put a disillusionment charm on himself none the less.

Hermione opened her door and found the lounge completely deserted, and she felt Severus as he walked by, reaching out an invisible hand and brushing her cheek with his fingertips before he was gone and she could see him no more. His door opened and closed, though she could not see him enter, and she closed her door, turning back to her bedroom. She went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth and her hair, returning to her bedroom to change when she had finished. Then she turned out the lights and curled up in bed, for the first time not aching and afraid of the dreams of Severus that would haunt her. She smiled into the darkness and drifted off to sleep, missing the familiar scent of the professor and pressing her face into her pillow as she slipped away from consciousness.

Severus made it back to his rooms, changing and cleaning himself up as well. He vowed—though quite reluctantly—that in the morning he would bathe and wash his hair until it was no longer greasy. Sighing, he slid under the blankets on his bed and shook his head at the darkness around him, picturing Hermione's smiling face and smirking before he fell asleep himself.

**So I thought it might be fitting for me to write and publish the 15th chapter today, because today is my 15th birthday.. But here it is! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! **

**About the chapter: I originally planned to have Hermione come back to Severus _yet_ _again_ and this time convince him, but then I realized how important it would be for Severus to be the one who instigated their reunion. The way I see it, by making his decision to 'be selfish for once' and actually go and tell Hermione the truth and ask her forgiveness, Severus has grown personally; he's finally accepting the fact that everything he does doesn't have to be for others, and he can do something for himself. Also, he was too proud and still the bully that Harry grew up with, and by taking the chance and giving Hermione the choice to reject him or love him, he is growing out of that and really becoming his own man. I thought that it was an important part of his development as a dinamic character. **

**Please review if you have a moment! Each and every review means so much and makes my day, and already I've had the best birthday ever because I woke up to plenty of reviews on yesterday's chapter! Thanks again to all of you for reading and/or reviewing! I love you all so very much! ~Taelr**


	16. Elise

Hermione had only just entered her classroom after coming from the Great Hall and breakfast when the door burst open behind her. She turned around quickly, surprised, and found Severus glaring at her and breathing hard, having obviously run after her from the Great Hall. He looked positively furious with her and there was ferocity in his unyielding gaze.

"Severus?" Hermione asked politely. They were nothing but polite and professional to each other during school hours, as there was always the chance of being overheard. This was an agreement that neither had suggested nor stated but both were following through with. "Is something the matter?"

He only growled as he caught his breath, scowling and still glaring at her murderously. Hermione merely smiled at him patiently in return; his ferocity was alarming to Neville and the students, but the rest of the staff, including Hermione, had grown used to it and he was no longer so fearsome. This was especially true in her case, as she had, though only once, seen that his hard, cold exterior was just that; an exterior. Inside he was warm and kind and loving, it was just hard for most people to bring that side of him to the surface. Hermione kept her smile polite and patient though she wanted to smile wider at the thought that she was probably the one person alive who could make Severus' softer, gentler side emerge.

He had caught his breath and was glaring at her in silence. She raised her eyebrows at him, waiting. "Granger," he growled.

She smirked at him. "I've told you to call me Hermione, I believe."

He rolled his eyes. Hermione didn't smile, though she was grinning girlishly on the inside; these times when they acted like nothing more than colleagues were occasionally fun, though she knew that Severus was, through and through, completely serious about what he was feeling at the moment. He did not treat her specially during school because she was not special to him then and he resumed his duty as potions master and no more. "Hermione, then," he sneered.

She pursed her lips, waiting. This animosity from him was not normal and would have made even the headmistress flinch, but Hermione was used to his personality and behavior and had come to find the secret, not-so-unkind messages hidden within his actions. He was, however, actually very irked over something or other at the moment, that much was obvious. "Please, Severus," she said with an air of annoyance at his presence, "What's the matter? I have classes that will start and students who will arrive soon. Hurry up, will you?"

His glare, though bad enough before, intensified. She only waited, eyebrows raised, expectantly. "_This_ is the matter," he said coldly, stepping towards her and holding out an envelope at arm's length.

Hermione glanced up at his still-cruel face and took the envelope. She did not take her eyes off of Severus as she took the parchment from the envelope and unfolded it, setting the empty envelope on the student's desk beside her. Then she lowered her gaze to the parchment and read.

_Miss Granger,_

_Please be present at the Ministry of Magic to attend the trial of one Severus Tobias Snape, who has yet to be announced guilty or innocent of such crimes as are listed . . ._

There was quite the list below it, and then more of the fancy writing ensued. Hermione looked up at Severus and frowned. "I see nothing wrong with-"

He interrupted, snorting loudly but not saying anything.

She looked at the letter again and then scowled up at him. "Why are you reading my owls?"

He walked forward and reached past her, never letting his glaring eyes leave her face as he grabbed the envelope. He held it so close that it touched her nose. She leaned back, surprised by his sudden actions, and stepped back, taking the envelope from him. Printed neatly across it: _To Hermione Jean Granger, regarding the trial of Severus Snape_.

Hermione was glaring now, too. She could have been puzzling over why the Ministry of Magic would send _her_ the letter rather than sending Severus his own court summons, but was a bit upset at the moment and forgot to care. "Severus," she said scathingly, actually angry now, "How dare you? Just because your name is on it you think you can open it and read it? And how did you get this rather than me?"

"An owl came just after you left and I thought I would deliver your letter to you," he snarled, "and I had every right to open it and read it. It is my court summons!"

"I don't care what it is," Hermione retorted hotly. "How _dare_ you?" she repeated, very upset with him. It was not, but it could have been a very personal letter from Harry or Ron or even Luna or someone else.

"How dare _I_?" he said incredulously. "How dare they!"

This confused Hermione. She blinked and looked up at him questioningly. "How dare they?" she repeated quietly, obviously not comprehending his meaning. He was still livid with rage and his face showed it so she knew he had not meant to be funny. "What do you mean?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes at her bewilderment. "They sent _you_ the summons. After all this time! _You_! Do they not know that I can take care of myself?" he snarled.

Then Hermione understood; the Ministry of Magic was still counting her as his caretaker and they would correspond with her rather than Severus over anything that had to do with him. Of course, he was perfectly recovered now, but they had still sent his summons to her rather than him. Now she understood why Severus was furious; he felt humiliated and as if he was being treated like a helpless child once more. She shook her head at him. "Calm yourself. I must accompany you"—she waved the letter in his face—"obviously, and while there I can give you back full responsibility for yourself and make it official."

He glared at her, but his scowl softened.

"Severus," she said, rolling her eyes. "Don't be dramatic. This is nothing and it can be fixed. And stop glaring at me! I didn't ask them to keep sending me all letters regarding you! They did this, not me. Now calm yourself."

He sighed deeply, though still glaring at her. She reread the letter and nodded to no one in particular. "Three days," she said, looking back up at him.

His face changed to slight confusion. "What?"

She rolled her eyes again. "Three days, Severus. We'll be in court in three days, on Saturday."

He glanced at the paper and she blew out her breath in exasperation. "Seriously? You read enough of the letter to be furious that it was addressed to me but not enough to know when you're to be tried?"

He said nothing, but held out his hand for the letter. Hermione made sure she knew the proper time to be at the Ministry for the hearing, and then folded the parchment and put it back in the envelope, which she set into his waiting hand. He snatched it, and turned quickly, stalking out of the classroom with that familiar strut and going just before a group of people could be heard moving down the hall outside.

Hermione went and sat behind her desk, waving her wand quickly to clean the classroom before students filed in through the door and moved to their desks. She smiled at them in greeting, and when they had all sat she had them get out their books and turn to page twenty-three, where they could read along while she explained a more difficult level of magic to them. As Hermione thought back to Severus while the students were all practicing the lesson, she thought, _it looked like he actually washed his hair_ . . .

Three days later Hermione and Severus left the castle early Saturday morning. They walked side by side to the edge of the grounds and Severus held out his arm, which Hermione took, and they apparated to the secret entrance to the Ministry of Magic. Stepping into the telephone booth together, they closed the door and typed in the code on the phone. The strange, female, ringing voice that Hermione had last heard when she, Harry and Ron had broken into the Ministry, spoke once more.

They stated their business and two badges appeared and Hermione put hers in her pocket. She could show it to anyone who asked. Severus didn't touch his, and she rolled her eyes, putting it too in the pocket of her robes. The ground seemed to be rising, though Hermione knew they were actually sinking downward. When it stopped they went to the desk and got their wands inspected, after which they headed to the proper courtroom. Hermione had contacted Harry and Ron and McGonagall and several others would be there as well as the two. She took a deep breath and then Severus opened the door, holding it for her, and she entered first. Severus followed, and Hermione felt a chill creep down her spine when she saw that there were two chairs in the center of the room rather than one.

The level they were on, the same floor as the two chairs, was lower than the rest of the room, like a bowl almost. Seats rose up on all sides to look down at them, and the Wizengamot were seated together in one section, while other members of the Ministry were seated around the room as well as plenty of people who had come to see the trial. Harry, Ron, McGonagall, and Arthur and Molly Weasley were seated together to her right, and Hermione felt slightly heartened to see them. Harry and Ron rose from their seats and came down some steps to the same level as Hermione and Severus. They nodded to Severus and Harry said quietly to both of them, "You can go sit; Ron and I will be testifying first." and then the two boys walked over and sat down in the chairs on the floor. Hermione glanced at Severus, who turned his back on her to walk to their seats, and she followed him.

Harry and Ron were asked questions, which they answered with as satisfactory explanations as they could give. Then they were given time to speak regarding why they thought Severus was innocent and deserved to go free. Hermione had been so sure that he would be a free man after being tried, but that was before and now she could barely breathe for fear of Severus' fate. At last they were finished with Harry and Ron, who came back to sit down. Hermione was called next, alone, and she walked down and sat, feeling quite terrified with everyone looking down on her. They asked her the same questions they had asked Harry and Ron, but there were more; they wanted to hear, from her lips, how Severus had been saved. Hermione realized that the Malfoys had been tried before the dark mark plagued their family, so they would not be tried again. But while he was here, the Wizengamot would surely feel the need to question her and Severus over his survival and they would feel awfully suspicious. She told them how he had been healed, no longer feeling embarrassed as much as she was simply happy that he had lived.

When they were at long last done questioning Hermione, she went to take her seat and the Weasleys went and answered questions about the Order of the Phoenix. Kingsley Shacklebolt was the one acting as judge and running the trial, and Hermione knew that he himself had been a member of the Order and knew the answers to most everything he asked, but the Wizengamot and other spectators did not. The Weasleys then took their seats and Severus himself went to sit alone beneath the gazes of all in the room.

Hermione couldn't breathe until it was over, and her chest was still feeling constricted as the witches and wizards who held the power all raised their hands in a unanimous vote for Severus to go free. Hermione noticed scowls from some of the witches and wizards whose votes did not matter, but there was no one of the Wizengamot who raised his or her hand when Kingsley asked who was in favor of Severus being taken to Azkaban.

Hermione clung to Harry's arm as they left the Ministry in one large group. They stopped and McGonagall bade them all farewell before disapparating back to Hogwarts. Severus nodded curtly to each of them, and Hermione knew better than they how grateful he actually was for their kindness in coming to his aid at the hearing. Then he, too, disapparated back to the school.

Hermione hugged Arthur and Molly, telling them to give the Charlie and Bill her best. They nodded and Molly hugged her again, kissing her forehead in a motherly way and smiling before taking her husband's hand. And then they were gone, back to the Burrow. Hermione turned to Harry and Ron, smiling at them both. "Thank you for coming," she said as she hugged them both. They only nodded. Ron looked a bit sour, and she got the slightest suspicion that perhaps he wasn't quite as relieved as she that Severus was walking free. He nodded and was obviously pleased when he looked over her shoulder, and Hermione turned to find Percy and George Weasley walking towards them. She hadn't noticed them in the courtroom, but they assured her they'd been there.

"We would've spoken for Snape and sided with him," Percy said as he walked up, "but Kingsley was so sure he'd be fine with just you lot that he wouldn't let us!"

Hermione smiled at this; so Kingsley had known all along how it would turn out. She hugged George, who grinned at her, and then hugged Percy, who returned her smile warmly. Hermione hugged Ron, expecting him to leave with Percy and George, but he muttered something to Harry and disapparated before she could say more to him. Harry noticed her questioning look and said, "He'll be waiting for me at the Burrow. Then we're going to Bulgaria again; they think they've found Rookwood . . . or what's left of him anyways."

Hermione cringed at this and Harry hugged her. "Sorry, but you only have to _hear_ about it. Ron and I have to go _see_ if it's really him." and he himself blanched at the idea.

Hermione turned back to George and Percy. "Don't mind Ron," George said, "He's just still a bit sour over losing his girl."

Percy nodded and said, winking at Hermione, "I admit I thought maybe I'd have a chance since you're single and all when Ron first told me," he paused for a moment and Hermione stared at him, surprised; she'd honestly never thought of Percy as anything but an older brother, and before that, a slimy, Ministry-loving git. He went on, "but rumor has it you're not so single after all."

Hermione was surprised and confused by this. "What?"

Percy and George grinned at her. George piped up, "Word is you and one Professor Snape are a bit sweet on each other."

Hermione choked out, "What?" before going into a coughing fit. When at last it subsided, she stared up at them. "That's not tr-"

"We know," Harry interrupted before George or Percy could tease her more, "don't worry; we don't believe it for a minute. I mean this is _Snape _we're talking about."

Hermione sent a grateful glance his way and turned back to the Weasley boys. They smiled and George added, seeing the quizzical look on her face, "We've got a few friends who're in school still. They're in their last year, but say that quite a few of the younger Gryffindor girlies are swooning over you and Snape's forbidden romance."

Still grinning, the two linked arms and disapparated without another word.

Hermione turned to Harry and knew before he said a word that he wasn't quite as disbelieving as the two redheads who had only just left. One look into those green eyes and she was convinced; he knew. "Harry," she said, worried that he would leave, angry with her, and tell Ron what he had discovered.

Before she could go on, he cut in with, "Being with him, does it make you happy?"

She blinked at him in surprise. "Um, yes. But I-"

"When you're with him, does anything else matter more than just being close to him?"

"Nothing else matters, but-" She was cut off once again when he spoke one last time.

"Then don't make excuses. I know how that feels," he hugged her and then looked her in the eye and said, "And as long as you're absolutely sure that he's the one you want," he sighed as if exasperated with her, "then go for it."

Hermione was surprised. "You're not going to lecture me or yell at me or tackle me and try to free me of _Amortentia_?" she asked.

He smiled. "No. And I won't tell anyone, _especially_ Ron. Though I don't want you to think you'll be able to hide this forever. I know McGonagall won't like it much, but you'll have to be honest eventually and you _are_ his colleague, not his student, so it's not some forbidden love, not really."

Hermione stared at him for a minute. "You're not mad?"

He laughed. "No. In fact, I think I kind of saw this coming; you're the kind of person who gets extremely attached to those who you go through hard times with; you're my best friend, and we got closer when we were out hunting horcruxes. And it seemed like loving Snape was something that would come a lot easier to you than hating him or just _being_ _friends_, especially after you saved his life and practically broke up with your boyfriend over him and cried over him when he was dying."

Hermione bit her lip and looked at him. He smiled at her, though he shook his head. Hermione had the fleeting desire to tell him about everything that had transpired between her and the potions teacher, but thought better of it and just hugged him before saying goodbye and watching him disapparate back to the Burrow. Then she herself turned in place, and was sucked into the smothering darkness before finding her feet and opening her eyes. It was midday and she pulled her cloak more tightly about her shoulders; the dark clouds above were flecked with the small bits of white as snowflakes tumbled down from above. She looked around and knew she was alone, but had barely taken a step towards the boundary of the school grounds when someone whispered a charm and she looked down and found herself invisible.

She looked around in surprise but saw no one. Obviously he—or she—had used the same disillusionment charm on themselves. Not exactly panicking, but still on edge as she had been during the war, she pointed her wand around her and started to say the counter charm to unveil the invisible stranger. But why would they have put the charm on her? Then they themselves wouldn't be able to see her . . .

She had stopped mumbling the counter charm because she was thinking, but when she started again she was cut off by invisible bonds wrapping around her and a voice in her ear saying, "Don't."

Before he spoke, she had begun to panic. But now she relaxed; it was Severus. He himself was invisible. Hermione thought of what a sight it would be if only one of them was invisible and smiled; one of them would appear to be embracing the air around them rather warmly. "Severus," she whispered even as she leaned into his embrace, "what are you doing?"

In reply she felt his hands as he felt his way up her back and around to her face. She smiled; he could see her no more than she could him, and if he was trying to find her face with his he would have some trouble. She was, needless to say, surprised then when his lips did indeed find hers. Then he broke away, but still had his arms around her. She hugged him, feeling slightly foolish because she couldn't see what she was hugging though he was there. She remembered the night that she, Neville, Luna, and Ron had accompanied Harry to the Ministry of Magic under the impression that Sirius Black was in mortal danger and she and Ron, who had never seen someone die, could not see the thestrals they were riding. It had been just as disorienting and strange then as it was to hug Severus now, because she could feel him, but not see him. Closing her eyes, she buried her face in his chest and was able to imagine that she would see him if she opened them again.

She had her arms around his waist, but hadn't worn gloves, and in the cold weather her fingers were cold. Severus was warm and the rest of her was comfortable and plenty warm against him, but her unprotected fingers began to hurt with cold. She shivered a bit, and Severus pulled back, though he held her arms with his hands. He slid his hands down and took both of hers into his. Then he lifted them to press her fingers to what she guessed were his lips, before letting go with one of his hands and releasing her completely, mumbling the counter charms so that both of them were visible once more. Their embrace had been far too short for Hermione's liking, but it was something and she reminded herself that now they could be seen and it would be very unwise even to touch him.

They walked back to the castle together and passed plenty of students who were outside, even in the cold. Apparently the hope that came with the falling snow—no matter how sparsely the flakes fell—was enough to bring some of them out. They all stared at Severus as he walked by, and he gave each and every one who looked his way a withering glare.

They entered the school and parted ways in the entrance hall; Severus went to McGonagall's office and Hermione went down to the dungeon to spend a while in her rooms before lunch in the Great Hall. They had missed breakfast, and she was a bit hungry. She was sure Kreacher would be waiting for her return so that he could bring her hot tea and hurried to her rooms in anticipation of her warm rooms and the steaming tea.

Severus went to the headmistress' office and knocked before entering. She was sitting behind her desk, alone, and though she put on a convincing smile when he walked in, he could tell that she had been nervously awaiting his return. Apparently she had not been as sure as she'd insisted that he would remain a free man. He sat and they discussed what had happened at the trial until lunch.

Hermione reached her rooms and sure enough, as she'd anticipated, Kreacher was waiting there. Before he could apparated to the kitchens to get her tea, however, she put in a special request. He left and she sat in the corner of the couch where she and Severus had been only a week before and sighed, watching the flames while she waited for Kreacher's return. He came back and handed her a steaming, foaming tankard of hot butterbeer. She smiled at him and patted the seat beside her on the couch. He looked surprised by the invitation, but took it none the less. Hermione sipped her butterbeer and was immediately flooded with memories of times spent with Harry or Ron or both in _the_ _Three_ _Broomsticks_, and then in _the_ _Hog's_ _Head_.

She didn't notice when Kreacher scooted away from her on the couch. But she wouldn't have minded; she was well aware of his cold feelings towards half-bloods and muggle-born witches and wizards. She was quite surprised when he willingly made conversation and turned to him when he asked, "Does Mistress care for Mister Snape?"

He cringed when she turned to look at him and she knew he expected to be punished for speaking out of turn. Sighing at how horrid some magical folk were to their house elves, she smiled at him small and said, "Yes, Kreacher. But you must never tell anyone."

Kreacher nodded. "Master knows of Mistress' shared feelings with Mister Snape."

Hermione was startled by his referral to Harry, but not by what the elf had said he knew. "I know," she said.

The elf did not look at her. She knew he didn't exactly enjoy seeing her most of the time and wondered how he could possibly stand serving her. "You may go," she said with a smile, though he did not look at her still. He vanished with a loud _crack _and left her to finish her butterbeer in peace.

She went to lunch and remembered her thoughts about Severus' hair that she'd had a few days before, glancing casually beside her to where he was. Sure enough, his shoulder-length black hair was no longer greasy and looked clean and not quite so unkempt. She smiled at her food when she had turned back, knowing it was for her that he had started to care for his appearance. When the meal was over there was a staff meeting in the teachers' lounge after they had all gathered there. It was not long, and then they were all left with the rest of the day to themselves.

Hermione went back to her classroom to clean and grade more homework, and when she had finished that, it was only an hour before dinner. She wasn't really hungry, and decided to visit the library, where she had so often spent hours at a time when she was a student at the school. She walked in and found what had once been her usual spot, choosing an ancient book from the shelves and curling up in the corner, losing herself in the words on the page.

She had only spent a short while reading when a first year came over and sat down near her, not seeming to notice that she was even there. The girl had glasses and long, straight, dark brown hair, and she was a Gryffindor. Hermione kept her head bent over her book but watched the girl from the corner of her eye. She sat there, curled up in just the same way as Hermione, with the book resting in her lap just as Hermione's. The large book bag beside her was full of books and Hermione wondered whether the young witch was like she had been; book-smart and full of all the knowledge she could get her hands on.

Smiling to herself, Hermione turned back to her own book and blinked in surprise when a small hand appeared in her line of vision, hovering over the page. She looked up at the girl, who was gazing at her through her glasses. "I'm Elise," she said, smiling. Hermione smiled back and reached out to shake the girl's hand.

"I would think you already know my name?" Hermione asked, smiling at her.

The girl nodded. "Of course. You're only basically the whole school's favorite teacher of all time, Professor."

Hermione blushed and said, "Thank you," at the compliment. She still had moments when being called _Professor_ that she forgot that her students were speaking to her. It was still so new to her, to be spoken to with such respect and a professional name rather than personal.

She and Elise started talking quietly, and they spent all the time before dinner, rising quickly and hurrying to the Great Hall together. Hermione was pleased to find that Elise was indeed just like her, in that she loved books and thought that the library held all the answers. She was also a very bright young witch and Hermione realized that she had been teaching the first year Gryffindors in her class often enough, but had never really thought about just how much more advanced Elise was at transfiguration and magic in general than the rest of the students her age. She gave the girl a smile and a nod for goodbye as they entered the Great Hall and parted ways, the girl to the Gryffindor table with her friends and the young woman to the staff table with her colleagues.

Dinner itself was nothing exciting, apart from the fact that Hermione and Severus were beside each other and no matter how silly or childish and immature it seemed, they were pleased to be able to be so close to each other in public without any suspicions from the other staff members or from the students. Hermione noticed Elise looking at her more than once during the meal, and she always smiled at the girl.

After dinner, Hagrid asked Hermione about coming to see Buckbeak, the hippogriff, who they had renamed Witherwings to protect him from the Ministry of Magic, who thought him a dangerous creature. She agreed to visit them the next day, and then they all parted ways and she went to the teachers' lounge. On her way out of the Great Hall, Hermione noticed Elise talking to two other girls and explaining something excitedly before pointing to her. Hermione realized they were talking about her and wondered if she had just stumbled upon her own small fan club. Smiling, she went to the dungeons and made her way to her rooms from the teachers' lounge. She was surprised to find an envelope lying on her bed waiting for her. It was from Harry.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Ron and I are in Bulgaria. Didn't take long to find what we thought was Rookwood, but we're having some trouble; the evidence suggests that maybe it's all a setup. Kingsley isn't ready to accept it just yet, but Ron and I think he survived somehow and staged his death so we wouldn't go looking for him. We also think he's up to something. It would only make sense for him to go after the Malfoys and Snape, wouldn't it? I mean, they're free and he's only free as long as he can keep away from us. Just thought I'd warn you in advance. Like I said, Kingsley doesn't want to believe that he survived until we have no other option, but you might want to be on your guard. Oh, and I called Kreacher here so he could deliver the letter. Don't worry about him. You can call him if you need him. Right now he's back in Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Good luck with classes and the _other_ professors._

_-Harry_

Hermione smiled at the letter. She knew that Harry had been alluding to Severus in his last few words. Yawning, she changed into her pajamas and went to the bathroom to brush her hair and her teeth. She curled up in bed and turned out the lights, smiling into the darkness; Severus loved her and he was still walking free and officially innocent, Kreacher was back where he wanted to be and probably groveling on the floor before his old Mistress' portrait in the hall at the Black's old property, Elise was a new friend she had, and Harry knew about Severus but loved her and supported her anyways. Now she just had to find a way to break the news to McGonagall gently but with conviction and see where that led. She closed her eyes as Crookshanks curled up beside her and the two of them fell asleep.

**Thank you all for yesterday's birthday wishes, they totally made it the best birthday ever! I am so happy you are all enjoying the story so much! Sorry this one's being posted so late but I had school and other stuff so I just now had the time! But here is chapter 16 and I hope you liked it. Remember to review if you have any questions/comments/advice/corrections for me! Every review is appreciated and I thank you all so much for being such dedicated readers/reviewers! I love you all! ~Taelr**


	17. Rookwood's Return

Hermione rose early and spent a while reading before she bathed and dressed, leaving for breakfast. She noticed that some of the students were absent from their tables and remembered her occasional days of skipping breakfast on weekends back when she was in school. When the meal was over she was stopped by a student who had a question about their transfiguration homework and she took a moment to explain until he understood. When he had hurried away to find his friends, she walked quickly to catch up with Hagrid, who was meandering towards the entrance hall but stopping here and there to have a few words with students.

Hermione reached his side just as he left the Great Hall and walked outside with him. Everything was covered in a blinding, brilliantly white blanket of snow, and more large flakes were falling quickly from the gray sky. It came as no surprise, then, that most of the students had come straight outside after breakfast.

Hagrid didn't speak on the way to his house, and Hermione didn't feel the need to fill the empty air with idle chat, so they walked in silence. He opened his door and let her walk in first, and Fang, who had been inside, bounded past her, running through the snow and burying his nose in the drifts. He nearly knocked Hermione over on his way past, but she grabbed the doorframe and managed to keep her footing. Hagrid closed the door behind himself while she went to sit at the table. He sat down and Hermione smiled at the sight of him; large white snowflakes had gotten caught in his tangled mane of wild hair and beard, and they were just now starting to melt.

"Here," he said, pouring her some strange, steaming brown concoction into a mug for her from the pot over the fire. She smiled and took it, trying to let the warmth of the mug sink in through her robes and also trying to avoid inhaling the steam from the substance, which reeked.

Hagrid started talking about dragons and Hermione listened patiently, answering or putting in a, "Yes," or an, "Of course!" whenever necessary. But she let Hagrid do most of the talking. She sighed, smiling as she remembered years before, when Hagrid had gotten a Norwegian Ridgeback while at _the_ _Hog's_ _Head_. It had been Quirrel—and Voldemort with him—who had traded the egg to Hagrid and waited until the half giant was drunk enough to mention the only way to get past Fluffy, a great, three-headed dog who had been set to guard the Sorcerer's Stone. Norbert had grown quickly and Hermione, Ron, and Harry had snuck him up to the astronomy tower in the dead of night to meet Charlie, who had—with the help of several colleagues who were also dragonologists—taken Norbert away from the school to be raised elsewhere. Hermione remembered that Norbert had eventually turned out to be a girl and Charlie had said that they started calling her Norberta instead.

And now Hagrid was talking about some new kind of dragon and though he never directly said it, Hermione could see in his eyes that he wanted one to raise for his own. To Hagrid, most creatures that terrified normal people were just large, lovable pets. That was all fine, but he was a half-giant and weighed five times more than Hermione did, so when he brought his pets to his classes for students, things didn't often turn out well. Granted, his first Care of Magical Creatures lesson had been about hippogriffs, and that had been interesting and safe enough. But Draco Malfoy had been stupid enough to ignore Hagrid's warning about how to act around a hippogriff and Buckbeak had hurt him, which led to Buckbeak's death sentence. He and Sirius Black would have died in the same day had Hermione and Harry not gone back in time and changed the fates of both.

Hagrid finished his long talk about dragons and at last mentioned Buckbeak. Hermione set her mug on the table and noticed as she did that the liquid inside had solidified and turned black. Ignoring her desire to poke the stuff with some kind of stick, she rose from her seat with Hagrid and they walked out the back door together. Hermione followed Hagrid into the forbidden forest, though they didn't have to go far before the trees opened up and they were faced by several hippogriffs standing or trotting around in the snow. Hermione bowed to them, and they cocked their heads at her before, one by one, bending their knees and bowing back. She approached the closest one, which was deep chestnut, and stroked his feathers. She did this to each of the creatures until she reached Buckbeak, who stepped towards her and lowered his head for her. She stroked his feathers and smiled up into his face.

She and Hagrid spent a few hours out in the snow with Buckbeak and the other hippogriffs, and then they went back to the castle for lunch. The two of them came into the entrance hall just as Severus did, and he nodded to Hermione before turning to enter the Great Hall before she and Hagrid did. She pulled the hood of her cloak off of her head and followed the half giant into the Great Hall, where all of the students were already seated at their tables. They walked to the staff table behind Severus and Hermione seated herself between him and Neville. McGonagall announced that there would be a trip to Hogsmeade the coming Saturday, and when she sat down food appeared on all of the tables and everyone began eating.

Severus ate slowly, as usual, and was careful to allow himself only occasional glances out of the corner of his eye at Hermione. She was quite wrapped up in some conversation with Longbottom, who seemed very deeply interested in whatever she was saying. Their conversation was, however, interrupted by the arrival of an owl in front of Hermione. Severus allowed himself to turn and face her with a bored expression on his face, as if he was completely uninterested in whatever the owl said.

Hermione had made sure after the hearing that the Ministry of Magic now sent all letters regarding Severus straight to him and not to her, so he didn't think it could be something about him. The owl took flight and left the Great Hall, and Hermione was opening the envelope and unfolding the parchment inside. Neville had turned and begun talking to Pomona Sprout beside him, and Severus turned back to his food, though he paid Hermione and her letter-reading an occasional glance. She seemed pensive and not quite herself after she had read whatever the parchment said and returned it to its envelope, which she then tucked into her robes.

Severus noticed that Hermione's eyes were constantly darting towards the headmistress and that she sat back and didn't eat any more food. To look at McGonagall, she had to look past him, but she seemed to see right through him. He noticed that her eyes seemed clouded with some strong emotion. Was it worry? But no, all was well at Hogwarts, his hearing was over and he was cleared of past events, and she was enjoying her job as a teacher once more now that he had admitted his true feelings for her. Severus wondered what could possibly be the matter, and concluded that the letter must be from Potter or Weasley and that they must have had some kind of bad news. He found himself hoping, for her, that nothing was wrong with any of her friends. He would never have felt any particular concern for any of the Weasley family had they not been so important to Hermione, and he would most definitely not have cared at all for Potter had he not been the son of Lily.

Now that the dark lord was gone, Potter could fend for himself. He was an auror, and of age in the wizarding world as well as the muggle world. Severus felt no need to concern himself with the boy until now, when Hermione's worried eyes saw through him to McGonagall once again. Rolling his eyes at his food, he stopped eating as well, concern for Hermione growing inside of him. He noticed, for the first time, that several girls at the Hufflepuff table were giggling amongst themselves, talking quietly and pointing at him. And then they pointed at someone else. But who? With a jolt, Severus realized that they were pointing between him and Hermione. They were smiling and covering their mouths to try to hide it, and nodding their heads or shaking them as they moved their hands emphatically while they spoke to each other about something.

Severus' eyes narrowed as he watched them. What were they up to? And then the answer hit him in the face. Of course, it was so obvious; they were second year girls who loved Hermione and were quick to think they knew about the idea of love. But had they truly caught on to something between him and Hermione or were they just pairing the two together with hopes that were based on rumor or ridiculous things that they called "evidence?" Severus caught the eye of one of the girls and they all stopped giggling and stared at him, and he gave them an especially savage glare. They all became somber right away and turned back to their meal, bowing their heads low and whispering once more, glancing at him from the corners of their eyes every now and then.

He was still suspicious that the main topic of their quiet conversation was his supposed love for Hermione, but stopped glaring at them and glanced at Hermione again. She was biting her lip, but the usual smile that accompanied this action was nowhere to be found. This turned Severus' thoughts away from the giggling second years and caused him to ask himself again why Hermione would be worried.

When the meal was over the students all rose and hurried to get outside in the snow again or back to their dormitories and dressed for the cold. This left the staff members mulling about, either remaining in their seats while they talked to one another or moving towards the doors to the entrance hall, where they would part ways and go wherever they wished or were needed. Severus noted that most of them left, including Longbottom, and though when Hermione stood she did not leave and continued to watch the headmistress, who was talking to Flitwick. Severus rose from his chair and was mildly surprised when Hermione's eyes momentarily left McGonagall and fell on his face. He raised one eyebrow to ask what was wrong, but she only answered by biting her lip again and looking back to McGonagall. He rolled his eyes at her, though he was sure she didn't see, and turned away before he strode from the Great Hall.

Hermione waited patiently, and when at last the headmistress was done speaking to Filius, she hurried forward and caught her attention. The older woman turned to look at her and asked, "Yes?"

Hermione stopped biting her lip and said, "Can I speak to you in your office?" glancing around at the remaining staff members, few though there were.

The older witch's brow creased, but she nodded. "Of course."

The two of them walked to the headmistress' office and both sat down. "Is something the matter?" McGonagall asked, though the answer was obvious enough.

Hermione had been biting her lip again, but she stopped as she nodded. She drew the envelope from her robes, and then leaned forward, handing it to the headmistress, who took the letter out and read it. She read, lips pursed, and her brow creased once more as she did. She looked up at Hermione and then back down at the letter, reading it once more before she folded the parchment and put it back into the envelope, which she handed to Hermione. "There was an earlier letter?" she asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

Hermione nodded. "Kreacher left it in my room for me and I read it once we'd gotten back from the Ministry."

McGonagall's face was thoughtful. "He was convinced then as well?"

Hermione nodded again. "He said that he and Ron were, but that Kingsley wasn't ready to accept it yet."

The headmistress was still thinking, Hermione could tell. She had only just opened her mouth to speak when the flames in her fireplace turned green and the tongues of flame expanded and burned higher than before. A very anxious looking boy with messy black hair and a lightning scar stumbled out of the fireplace, brushing soot from his clothes and fixing his glasses back on his nose, as they had slid off and were hanging askew from one of his ears. "Harry?!" Hermione jumped up from her seat and without thinking she threw her arms around him. Then she remembered the soot and ash, and pulled out her wand, using a simple charm to remove it from both of their robes. The flames roared high and green once more, and Ron stepped out, looking a bit more composed than Harry, but just as alarmed about something. Hermione used the same charm to remove the soot from his robes and gave him a quick hug as well.

"What is it, Potter?" the headmistress asked, and Hermione remembered that she was there for the first time since Harry had arrived.

Harry turned and looked at her. "We can't stay," he said, his voice steady though he looked quite upset. "We were right," he looked at the envelope on the desk and nodded at it, "about Rookwood. He's alive and he's on the loose."

Ron looked from Hermione to McGonagall, both of whom were now standing, and said, "He's gone completely mental!"

Harry nodded and said, "We think it's something to do with the dark mark. Kingsley isn't sure whether someone saved him like you did Snape"—he looked at Hermione—"or whether he managed to scrape by and survive on his own. But we're sure he's gone mad. It seems like the pain from the mark was a bit much for his mind to handle. He came waltzing right into the Ministry last night but everyone was so sure he was dead they all thought they must be imagining things, and it took until this morning for the news to reach Kingsley and the others.

"Then he sent us to Malfoy Manor to check up on them and see if he'd tried to persuade them to cause trouble again, but when we got there . . ." he trailed off.

He winced when Hermione asked, "What? What happened?" She didn't particularly care much for the Malfoys, but a sudden feeling of dread was building in her stomach. If a madman with a wand and the knowledge of the dark arts had visited them when they least expected it . . .

Harry was looking unwilling to continue, so Ron took over. "We got there and . . ." he took a deep breath and Hermione felt herself do so as well. She hated this; she was hanging on his every word, expecting the worst but dreading the news. "Narcissa and Draco just got to Saint Mungo's not half an hour ago," he said at last. Hermione felt her stomach drop.

It was the headmistress who spoke next. "And Lucius?" she asked.

Both Harry and Ron looked as if they were about to retch. Hermione's stomach seemed to be curling up and tying itself in painful knots of frightening anticipation, and McGonagall prodded, "Well?"

Harry took a deep breath and said a single word. "Dead."

McGonagall actually gasped. Hermione's hands flew to her mouth of their own accord and she heard her own sharp intake of breath. She hadn't been too thrilled with the Malfoys' freedom, but for Lucius to be killed after all this, after the war was over . . . it was too much to grasp. "Dead," she heard herself whisper.

"How?" the headmistress asked.

Harry shook his head. "Ron and I went straight there. We got inside and it was all chaos. We had no idea what had happened and aren't sure yet because Narcissa hasn't said a word so far. When we got into the place, she was screaming and sobbing and crying and clinging to Draco and trying to pull him behind an overturned table in the dining room because he was unconscious and Lucius was nowhere to be found. Rookwood heard us coming and left as soon as we saw him."

"Left?" McGonagall questioned, though Hermione was sure she'd already guessed the answer to her question.

"He was strong enough to disapparate," Harry said. "After he was gone we went to the two behind the table and Narcissa was scared to death of us until she saw who we were. She was badly hurt, but nothing compared to Draco. He's in critical condition. We found Lucius upstairs. It looked like Rookwood had found him first and when he refused to join him, it turned into an all-out duel. We think Narcissa heard from downstairs and tried to get Draco out, but he might have run to help Lucius—but like I said, we're not entirely sure. Rookwood looked like he was hurt when we saw him before he disapparated, but not as badly as Narcissa. When we found Lucius-"

"Or what was left of him anyway," Ron cut in, making both the headmistress and Hermione cringe.

"He was dead," Harry finished. "They're trying to get anything they can out of Narcissa, but she's in a state of shock and is constantly switching between sobbing about Lucius and cowering in fear. Kingsley has a group or aurors watching at Saint Mungo's to protect the Malfoys and the other patients. But what I've said about Rookwood's motives when he attacked is just an idea. We don't really know; he could have asked for their partnership in using dark magic, or he could have just gone after them out of hatred because they were free, or he might've been furious that they betrayed Voldemort and gone to get his revenge." He paused, and when no one asked any questions, he added in a lower voice, "Kingsley isn't sure, but he thinks he—Rookwood—will go after Snape next. I know Hogwarts is one of the safest places around, and you can't apparated in and out, but you'll still want to be careful. Also, he's not right in the head, remember, so he'll try things that are stupid and daring but just might work."

The headmistress nodded. Hermione only blinked. She was still trying to grasp several things; Rookwood was alive and he had, as Ron had said, gone completely mental; Severus seemed to be in mortal peril; Lucius Malfoy was dead and his wife was in Saint Mungo's, where his son was in critical condition. Even her hate for Draco and his family in the past didn't stop her from feeling suddenly very sad for their loss of Lucius and very worried that Draco could die.

"We have to go," Ron said.

McGonagall nodded again and said, "Tell Kingsley that we will be especially cautious from now on."

Both boys nodded. Hermione hurried to hug them both and wish them luck and safety looking for the one remaining death eater, and then another thought occurred to her. "If Rookwood survived . . ." she started, but the others didn't need to hear the rest to know what she was thinking.

"It is possible that others who had not yet been caught could have survived, yes," the headmistress said.

Harry and Ron turned to the fire and flooed one at a time. Hermione turned back to McGonagall and waited expectantly. The older witch sat down behind her desk and looked up at her. "Please go and tell the other staff members to come here immediately for a meeting."

Hermione nodded and left the office, hurrying down halls and corridors. Any staff member she passed was given the message and set off to McGonagall's office. She remembered who she had already told and at last there was only one she had yet to find and tell; Severus. She hurried down to the dungeon, hoping that perhaps he was in his classroom. He was. She opened the door and he looked up from the homework he was grading at his desk. He raised his eyebrows but she didn't waste her words; this was a serious matter.

"McGonagall wants all the staff in her office right away," she said.

His brow creased but he stood immediately and joined her by the door, and they walked quickly together to the headmistress' office. Inside, all of the other people Hermione had told to come were standing around, waiting for an explanation. When McGonagall saw that Hermione and Severus were there she stood up and everyone fell silent. She relayed Harry and Ron's message to them, and everyone looked utterly shocked. Then they began discussing safety and precautions with the students and the school and the portraits of past headmasters, including Dumbledore, even joined in the conversation.

At dinner a few new additions to the rules were announced, and the warnings not to leave the grounds were stated once more to ensure the student's safety. The meal seemed to go quickly for Hermione, and soon enough she was curling up in bed with Crookshanks, though she couldn't sleep. Thoughts of Rookwood, the Malfoys, and Severus swirled around in her head, mixing together until everything was muddled and she fell asleep, dreaming that Severus had gone mad from drinking a potion and killed Rookwood, who had been the distant cousin of the Malfoy family, which was now furious with Hermione for saving Severus because of what he had done.

She woke in the morning and was relieved to find that it was a dream, but then felt terrible when she remembered the truth. Classes started after breakfast and she had enough to do for the rest of the day to keep her busy and free of troubling thoughts. She was quite busy for the rest of the week, falling into bed exhausted every night and rising just early enough in the morning to take a quick bath and get ready before breakfast. Saturday came and she realized that Christmas was only a matter of weeks away, but that thought was gone when she remembered the stack of homework she had yet to grade. She spent the day in her classroom and was surprised to hear that the trip to Hogsmeade hadn't been cancelled due to Rookwood's return.

She left the castle with the students, having been told my McGonagall to keep an eye on any of the children around wherever she went in Hogsmeade, though it was her own day and she could go where she pleased. She stopped by _the_ _Hog's_ _Head_ to see Aberforth Dumbledore and ended up in _the Three Broomsticks_, sitting alone at a table in the corner. Madam Rosmerta hadn't yet gotten a moment to come and take her order, so she waited patiently, smiling at the charming winter decorations that floated above her head near the ceiling. The door opened and several students came, accompanied by a gust of frigid air and swirling snowflakes brought in by the wind. They found a table across the room from Hermione and she counted how many were there and tried to sort out who was who in the dim light where their faces were hidden. The door opened yet again but she was too busy, counting students and trying fruitlessly to identify who they were, to notice who had entered.

She jumped, startled, when a deep voice drawled, "May I sit down?"

"O-of course," she stammered in surprise, but Severus had already slid into the seat across the table from her.

It was then that Madam Rosmerta found her way to them and asked, "What can I get ya?"

Severus looked to Hermione, who asked for a butterbeer, and he asked for one as well. Hermione was pleasantly surprised. She felt foolish saying it, but stated, "I didn't know you liked butterbeer."

"Did you think I was partial only to pumpkin juice?" he asked.

"No," she said, "I suppose it just seems a bit . . ." she trailed off, looking for the proper word.

"A bit . . . too sweet for someone with a disposition like my own?" he asked, and there was actually amusement shining in his eyes.

Hermione smiled at him. She wasn't sure whether she was more pleasantly surprised or shocked and startled by his trying to be funny. Their drinks arrived and Severus paid for them before she could say a word, but his eyes—like melted chocolate once again—dared her to question him, so she remained silent. She sipped the hot, rich liquid and watched his face for a moment before glancing at the students and counting heads again.

Severus watched as her attention turned to a table of students on the opposite side of the room. He smirked at her. "Paranoid about students, are we?"

She blinked and looked back at him. "No. Just cautious, as McGonagall's asked us to be."

They gazed at each other steadily for a few seconds and then she said quietly, "I'm worried about more than just students."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous," he said airily.

She frowned at him. "I'm not being ridiculous. I have every right to be worried." Then she dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned forward over her drink, hissing, "He killed Lucius. He hurt Narcissa and Draco has yet to recover enough to no longer be considered dying. He might not be sane, but he still knows what he's doing with dark magic."

"You shouldn't worry so," Severus said, looking annoyed.

She glared at him. "I apologize that my concern for you is so offensive."

He shook his head and sipped his butterbeer, the sight of which causing Hermione's lips to twist into an annoyed, upset-but-amused smile. "I do not find it _offensive_," he said after a moment, his eyes drifting away from her and then back again, "I simply think that there is less reason to worry than you seem to have convinced yourself there is."

"Severus," she hissed, upset again and no longer smiling, "I've already lost you twice. Can you blame be for not wanting another?"

He rolled his eyes at her, but inside he was concerned that she would worry over him too much. Yes, he was quite possibly in danger, but no, Rookwood would probably be unable to kill him. "You never actually lost me," he said simply.

She pursed her lips. "I was sure you were dead the first time, and the second was far too close for my liking. I'll not have it happing again."

He smirked at her.

"You haven't got a heart," she said in a low hiss. Then her voice dropped to the softest whisper and she said, "Severus, I can't lose you again. And if you insist that I never did, then I can't lose you at all, even if this is the first time. Please, at least try to understand my concern?"

He merely continued to smirk and sip his drink.

She bit her lip, and he frowned and said, "Will you please stop?"

She raised her eyebrows, but did remove her teeth from her lip. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly at her obedience, but he did not smile. Of course he understood Hermione's concern; he was worried for her just as much as she was for him. If Rookwood was coming for him because he had lived and was not a criminal in the Ministry's eyes, then wouldn't he be quick to attack the person who had ensured Severus' survival? In Severus' eyes, Hermione was in far greater danger than he himself was, and she had no idea of it. She started to talk about the proper way to prepare the ingredients and add them to _Amortentia_, and he answered her questions, asking her some though he knew she had all the answers.

The two talked for an hour, enjoying each other's company but looking to students and everyone else as if they were discussing classes and such things when really they were having a witty contest as to who knew the most about certain potions or charms or spells or hexes. Hermione eventually ordered another butterbeer, and she actually stole Severus' tankard from him and peered into it before she believed that he'd drank the entire thing. He smirked, quite amused by her amazement that he actually liked the stuff.

**Hello everyone! Sorry that this chapter is a bit short; I had a long day of school and other things, as well as a bit of writer's block. But here you are! I hope you like it! I liked writing it! Please review if you have a moment. I love to hear from you all and thank you again to all who have reviewed before and thanks if you are just doing it now! I have some interesting things planned for Severus and Hermione in future chapters so please bear with me as I keep writing! Thank you all for reading! Love, love, love you! ~Taelr**


	18. Bribery

Severus was walking out of the Great Hall after dinner when he saw them; the headmistress and Hermione were walking in the direction of McGonagall's office, where they would undoubtedly be scheming yet again. He frowned; the headmistress seemed to think almost too highly of Hermione's ideas, and had been talking with her daily in her office for the entire week since Rookwood's attack on Malfoy Manor. It wasn't that Severus thought Hermione and her ideas weren't fitting for McGonagall's inspection or appreciation, it was that a slight jealousy had overcome him. Yes, he and the headmistress did have some interesting history, what with her trusting him all of his years as the potions professor and then practically chasing him from the school when he was headmaster and Potter and his friends had returned. But since the battle of Hogwarts, after which he was proven innocent, she had begun trusting him completely again.

Along with his jealousy—which he was denying and in his own mind referring to as "the theft of trust that was rightfully his"—he was more and more worried for Hermione with each passing day. Yes, she was at Hogwarts, practically the safest place for her to be, but while she was overly concerned with his being in supposed danger, she was constantly disregarding her own safety. Severus wasn't being overcautious; it only made sense that Rookwood would want to hurt Hermione for saving him, and what if he found out that Severus had feelings for the young woman? Even a lunatic would possess enough brains to realize that hurting Hermione would be the best way to hurt Severus.

Severus' fear for Hermione's safety was intensified daily for two reasons. On one hand, there was the simple explanation that as more time elapsed—no matter how few days it had actually been—he became increasingly paranoid about Rookwood's imminent attack on the school. And on the other, he barely got any sleep at night because he was constantly waking, chest heaving, sweat beading on his face and soaking his clothes, having escaped a dream of Hermione's terrible death only for the moment, because as soon as he closed his eyes the scene would shift. Each dream was worse than the one before it, and her death was always gruesome and horribly painful for her. Severus was haunted by his nightmares by day, especially those that had taken place in the school; he would see Hermione in the very place the dream had taken place and panic that Rookwood might actually be there somehow and kill her right then.

In spite of his fervent warnings that he gave her every time they were alone, she only seemed more careless and unconcerned than before. In truth, it was because he gave his warnings so that she got the impression that he wanted everyone at the school to be more careful, and was loath to let on how much danger she was really in. It wasn't because he thought it would frighten her, but rather that he knew she would only laugh and roll her eyes, because she was so convinced that it was he in mortal peril and not her. But though he thought he was doing an excellent job of hiding the truth from her, she was beginning to catch on.

Hermione noticed that while Severus was often lacking in expressing why, he would tense and look momentarily panicked at least twice a day when he saw her. Try as she might to find a pattern in where she was when he did this, she failed and eventually decided that something was amiss. Upon closer observation, she found that he was in fact even more stiff and unkind than usual, which she only found annoying at first, but gradually became worried about. She knew him well enough to correctly guess that if anything, he was completely unworried about his own life being in danger and was worried about that of another. She eventually came to the conclusion that he seemed to be more concerned about her than anyone else, and puzzled over why.

It was by her careful pondering of his behavior that she realized the same thing Severus had. She was however, if anything, quite the opposite of afraid. Let him come, she thought. If Rookwood attacked her first, Severus would have time to attack him when he wasn't paying attention. She was in fact relieved by her revelation, though she never let on that she had come to such a conclusion, knowing that Severus' worry for her would only increase tenfold.

Meanwhile, Severus had yet another nightmare one night, this one where he relived using legilimency on Potter and remembered on of the boy's memories that he had come across and experienced as if it were his own; Lily's death. Of course, all that Potter had been able to recall was a great flash of green light and the voice of the dark lord shouting something as his mother screamed, but it was enough to make Severus wake with a jolt, sitting up in his bed and running his hands over his face. Yet again, his chest was heaving, his clothes were soaked with sweat, and he was shaking violently. He lay back down but did not close his eyes, knowing that another nightmare would only ensue if he did.

He did not sleep the rest of the night, terrified of the dreams that plagued him, and whether they were of the death of Lily or Hermione was no matter; each was just as terrible as the other. He would not lose Hermione as he had lost Hermione. One dark wizard had taken the only woman he loved years before, and he would not allow it to happen again. At the thought of Lily, he had a pang of shame; she was the first woman he ever loved and he had sworn to love her until the end. Was it not wrong then to let her go and allow himself to love Hermione instead?

A nagging voice in the back of his mind insisted that Lily had never loved him that way, and that she would have wanted him to be happy and move on. But he was convinced that by loving Hermione, he was being unfaithful to Lily. Even if he had decided to finally be selfish for once and do something for himself by loving Hermione, he could not simply disregard his oath to Lily after she had passed away that he would never love another. It had been terribly easy for him to ignore other women when comparing them to Lily over the years after her death, especially since he was surrounded only by students and McGonagall and Pomona, none of whom he had never felt particularly fond of. But now, with Hermione, it was completely different. It was so much easier simply to love her and not deny himself what he knew she could give. He spent the rest of the night mulling over whether or not he was being disloyal to Lily and by morning he had decided to compare Hermione to Lily, as he had all of the other women before her, and see what he found.

Hermione woke and found a mug of steaming tea on her bedside table waiting for her. She raised her eyebrows at Crookshanks, who was sitting on the end of her bed, licking his paw. He gazed at her for a moment and went back to cleaning himself, which she took to mean that he wasn't going to tell her who had brought the drink. She drank it and after bathing dressed and got ready for the day. She was quite sure that Kreacher was still in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, but then who had brought the tea? Surely it had been another house elf, one of those which worked there at the school?

Unsure but too tired to ponder it, she left her rooms and walked to the Great Hall. Severus walked behind her, along with several other staff members. When she sat down beside him at the staff table in the Great Hall, the headmistress rose from her seat and came to stand beside Hermione, who looked up expectantly. "Is something the matter?" the younger witch asked. Of course, there was the obvious answer that a mad dark wizard was roaming the country, but the older woman seemed to understand that her question was not about Rookwood.

McGonagall reached over and put a finger under Hermione's chin, lifting it and looking down into her face. Hermione gazed back at the headmistress, wondering what she could possibly be doing. "Those bags under your eyes are getting darker and darker, looking worse every day. Have you been sleeping quite well?"

Severus was watching the two and was quite relieved to find that the headmistress had taken notice of Hermione's health for once. It seemed he was the only one to truly notice her health and behavior changes, but he assumed it was because he was watching her so closely.

The headmistress took her hand away and Hermione shrugged. She looked quite hesitant to speak, but said quietly, "I haven't been getting much sleep at all, actually. See, I've had . . ." she paused, eyes darting to Severus and then back to McGonagall, "I've been having . . . nightmares."

The headmistress nodded, not looking the least bit surprised. Severus and Hermione were both startled when she turned to him and said, "I'm sure you have a potion that will induce a deep, restful, dreamless sleep?"

Severus nodded and McGonagall returned to her own seat. He felt pleased; his giving Hermione a potion would allow him to observe and compare her to Lily. In the same moment Hermione was unhappy with the idea of having a moment alone with Severus, sure that he would warn her yet again about being cautious.

They had classes all day and it wasn't until those were over that Hermione was left alone for a few minutes. Even then, she was too busy grading homework to go to the potions classroom and retrieve her potion, and she was sure Severus would be there. She was perfectly capable of reading the labels on his jars and flasks and there was no need for him to actually give her the potion, as she was aware of which one it would be. If only she could sneak in when he wasn't there . . .

Her thoughts were interrupted when someone knocked on the open door, announcing their presence in the room. She looked up from the parchment on her desk and her heart seemed to sink and soar at the same time, which, as could only make sense, caused her to feel as if it were being ripped in two.

Severus walked up and set his hands on the edge of her desk, leaning against them. He set a phial of dark purple liquid on the desk and didn't lift his gaze from it. She watched his face with a somewhat sour expression, though hopeful and anticipating the use of the potion he had brought her; a good night's sleep would make her feel so much better. Severus knew that she was already completely aware of how to use the potion, but he said, "Three drops in your tea before you sleep will do."

His gaze wasn't on her face, but she rolled her eyes anyway. At last he looked up. She noticed that he was watching her strangely. She waited; his delivery of a serious warning should be any moment now . . .

Severus searched her face. He was taken aback by the similarities between her and Lily in appearance. Of course, she did not have Lily's eyes, but her eyes shone with the same amount of love and caring concern that Lily's had. Her hair wasn't red, but though Lily's had never been bushy when she was younger, now Hermione's curls had tamed themselves and become smooth and full like Lily's had been. Their faces were the same shape, their skin nearly the same exact shade, if he was recalling Lily's appearance correctly. He compared their personalities and again found more than he had expected to that could link the two women together.

But there was more; in his younger years, only the sight of Lily could make his heart race and his lips twitch upward. Only Lily had been able to make him chuckle or truly laugh, and only she had ever been able to bring out who he really was; no one else could see past his hard exterior. And now Hermione was doing all those things that only Lily had done in the past. At the sight of the young transfiguration teacher, Severus' heart always reacted, picking up its pace or skipping a beat or two. Now Hermione was the only person alive who could somehow manage to say something that made a genuine laugh rise in his throat. And Hermione seemed to see straight past the cold stares, the malicious glaring, and the pale, cruel, face he wore every day.

Hermione watched his eyes with interest. They were dark brown again, but they were searching. For what, though, she could not decide. And then in his eyes there came a shaken look. To Hermione, it looked as if Severus was seeing something for the first time, but as he was staring at her face, she dismissed this idea. However, he was indeed seeing her as if for the first time. Having come to realize just how much like Lily Hermione was, Severus was able to rest. Lily would have wanted him to be happy, to let her go. He felt a surge of relief and release when he came to this conclusion. He rose, no longer leaning on his hands or the desk, and stepped back.

Hermione sensed that he was about to turn and leave, but then something seemed to stop him and he looked at her again. "Yes?" she asked.

He sat down at the student's desk nearest hers, furthering her surprise.

Her lips twitched because she thought he looked quite funny sitting behind a student's desk while she was behind the teacher's.

"Nightmares?" he asked.

She frowned, silently inquiring why he was asking, but nodded.

"Every night?"

She nodded again.

"Are they always the same?" he asked.

She nodded a third time.

He stared into her eyes for a few moments before asking, though his words came as more of a statement, "They are about me?"

She bit her lip and lowered her gaze but didn't shake her head.

"I am flattered," he said, his words accompanied by a humorless laugh before he finished, "but you oughtn't to lose sleep over me."

Her eyes flashed back to his face and she seemed mildly annoyed with him.

"Well?" he asked.

She frowned. "Well what?"

"What is it that I do in these dreams that frightens you so and deprives you of sleep? They _are_ frightening?"

She nodded to answer his second question and hesitantly followed by answering the first. "It's not what _you_ do, it's what . . ." she stopped, obviously not willing to carry on.

"Rookwood," he stated matter-of-factly.

She sighed but nodded.

"What does he do to me?" Severus asked, though Hermione was sure he already knew what her answer would be.

"He kills you," she whispered. "Over and over again. Every time I close my eyes it's there. I hardly ever sleep anymore."

Severus let his chest heave as he sighed. "Nothing will happen to me."

She shook her head. "Anything could happen. That's why I'm so worried-"

"No. You shouldn't be worrying about anyone but yourself," he cut in. Seeing the look on her face, he said, "the students are not his concern, nor have they done anything to deserve his vengeance."

"Which is why you're in danger," Hermione pointed out, sounding exasperated.

"I am not the one who lies in the most danger," he said quietly.

She stared at him for a moment. She had already come to the realization that Rookwood would probably want to kill her, but she still felt that Severus was in greater danger than her. Severus could see in her eyes that she knew. "You saved me; because of you, I am alive and not maimed by the dark mark as he is. It only makes sense, then, that he will come for you before me."

Hermione only shrugged. This infuriated him. Had she no regard for her own safety at all? Running his hands over his face, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "Hermione," he said, and though he sounded exasperated, his tone was far from harsh and it sent chills down her spine. He continued, "Please, if for no other reason, be more cautious, _for_ _me_?"

Hermione turned to look back at the homework stacked on her desk. She sighed, irritated, but after a moment she nodded. "For you," she said quietly, still quite obviously annoyed.

She was taken off guard when he changed the subject abruptly. "What are you and Minerva planning?"

Hermione raised her head to look at him, raising her eyebrows. Sighing in resignation, she said, "We're going to Saint Mungo's tomorrow to see if Narcissa will tell us anything. The others"—Severus knew she meant the Ministry workers and aurors, including Harry and Ron—"stopped trying after two days because it seems hopeless, but I'm sure she'll open up eventually. She's the only way we can know what really happened."

"How are they?" Severus asked.

Hermione was surprised that he had asked, but said, "Narcissa is fully recovered—physically. She's still very jumpy and of course, getting over the death of a spouse isn't exactly a thing that happens in the first week after their passing."

"And Draco?"

Hermione bit her lip, taking a deep breath before she said, "He's no better than he was when they found him at the manor. The healers don't think he'll survive much longer."

With a pang, Hermione found herself remembering the phoenix tears in her bag, which the headmistress had actually advised her not to take to the hospital. However, she had the sudden strong desire to take them with her.

Severus had stood to leave and he gave Hermione one last, long, meaningful look before he left the classroom. She didn't go back to the homework, but put it away and hurried to the headmistress' office to share the idea that had just sprung up in her mind.

"Hermione," McGonagall was saying a while later, "bribery is hardly something I would like to use, and in these circumstances . . ."

"But she'll do it," Hermione insisted, "She'll tell us what we ask if I just-"

"I don't believe this is a good idea," McGonagall cut in.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Please. I know it sounds terrible. But think over Narcissa's past. A mother's love knows no bounds, and she's hardly any different. It's because of Draco that she lied to Voldemort. It's because of Draco that she and Lucius didn't fight in the battle here, because they were looking for their son. She might not have made the smartest decisions most of the time, but she would do anything for him. And right now he's dying. I'm sure she'll do anything in her power to heal him. And I was planning on it anyways . . ." she trailed off, waiting for the headmistress' reply.

McGonagall was surprised. "You think he is worthy?"

Hermione nodded.

"You are willing to waste—no, _use_—the tears to heal him?"

Hermione nodded again, and without hesitation.

"Why?"

"I've never liked him much at all," Hermione reasoned quietly, "but no one but the dark lord and his truest followers deserved to die like that. And Draco didn't exactly have a choice."

The headmistress raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. "You're sure about this?"

Hermione nodded. "Positive."

Then the older witch nodded and said, "All right. You have my permission."

Hermione thanked her and turned to leave. She had her hand on the door before McGonagall said, "Oh, and Hermione," causing her to turn back. The headmistress smiled, and added with a knowing look in her eyes, "Take Severus along with you. He seems a bit worried for you lately and I'm sure he thinks himself the only wizard worthy to guard you."

Hermione stood, frozen, gazing at the headmistress in wonder for several moments. They simply looked into each other's eyes for a while, and though their lips were silent, both were thinking. Hermione eventually came from her trance, nodding once and smiling uncertainly before it faded. "Y- you," she began, but McGonagall spoke before she could finish her question.

She spoke very quietly and very solemnly. "I have known for a while, dear."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat, wondering what came next, not having a clue as to what she ought to say now. Then, as if they had a mind of their own, her lips began to work again. "And what do you think of . . .?"

"I don't think you should worry over it," the headmistress said.

Hermione was confused. She was too baffled for a moment to panic because McGonagall knew that she and Severus loved one another. "Worry over it?"

McGonagall looked almost amused. "Severus is merely returning your care for him when he was ill by wanting to protect you. Do not worry over it; once Rookwood is caught and sent to Azkaban, he will no longer feel that he is bound to keep you safe."

Hermione nodded slowly. She had been positive that the headmistress knew about her and Severus, but now . . .

"I don't think I'll worry over it," she said after a short time of silence. Then, cocking her head and looking across the room to the older witch, she asked timidly, "Is—is there anything else?"

McGonagall looked bemused. "Well no, I don't think so."

"You simply think I oughtn't to worry over it. Over . . . him?" she asked.

"I do think that is all, Hermione," McGonagall said with a kind smile, dismissing her. She was obviously confused and concerned about Hermione's asking such things.

Hermione left the office and walked down the hall, relieved. For one terrible, frightening moment, she had thought the headmistress knew that Severus loved her and that she loved him in return. Taking a deep breath to expel the panic that had risen in her chest and choked her painfully, she stopped in the deserted corridor, taking a moment to lean against the wall and let relief wash over her.

She walked towards the dungeon, headed towards Severus' classroom or the teachers' lounge to find him and tell him that he was to accompany her to Saint Mungo's. She thought over it and decided on her way that she would also tell him that McGonagall had become aware of his worries for her, but hadn't the slightest inkling of anything else. Or so it seemed at the moment.

**Alright everyone, sorry that this chapter was so short! I've been really busy lately and haven't had much time to write, but here's the latest! Thanks (yet again, I know this might be getting old) to all of you who read and to those of you who review! I love you all! ~Taelr**


	19. You Are Spoken For

Hermione reluctantly let go of Severus' arm after they apparated to the entrance to Saint Mungo's. He smirked at this, but was constantly watchful of everyone and everything around them, never letting down his guard. They stepped straight through the glass window of the supposed store and off the muggle street, finding themselves in the wizarding hospital. Though the entrance area was never very organized and always a bit chaotic, now things were so hectic and frenzied that Hermione stopped in her tracks and Severus, who had entered behind her, walked into her.

He took one look around and tensed; something was very wrong here. He was so busy watching everything around them that he bumped into Hermione, but he didn't step back and instead found himself instinctively putting his hands on the thing he wanted to protect.

Hermione tensed momentarily when Severus placed his hands on her shoulders, but then relaxed and leaned back against him as she tried to find some sort of order in the chaos before them. Severus released her shoulders eventually and she leaned away from him, standing on her own once more. Now he put a firm hand on her elbow and steered her gently in the direction of the closest corner, which was empty. They moved along the wall slowly and very cautiously. Then both leaned against the wall, staring in shock and amazement at the things going on before them.

Everyone was running around, seemingly in circles. Many witches and wizards—both old and young—were casting spells and charms in every direction, and as a result the air hummed with the muddle of incantations being said. People will all kinds of problems, injuries, and strange body parts that had been given by hexes or curses were stumbling, jumping, running, flying. There seemed to be no order anywhere.

Hermione noticed that there were healers amongst the rest of them, and these alone were trying in vain to calm the others. A healer spotted them and ran to them, but just as he reached them someone sent a curse their way. Hermione had been watching the healer and didn't see it until it was too late, but Severus had been cautious and watchful, keeping an eye on everything at once. He reached out and put his arms around her in his hurry, pulling her towards him just in time for the curse to hit the wall rather than Hermione. The healer reached them and Hermione realized they must have been an odd sight, especially because she was now leaning back against Severus, who had his arms wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

The healer took no notice of this, though, and looked them up and down, obviously suspicious. He opened his mouth to speak but Severus did first.

"What's going on here?"

The healer was still breathing hard from all the running. He suddenly pointed his wand into the fray and said, "_Stupify_!" causing one of the frenzied people within to fall to the ground, unconscious. He looked at Hermione and said, "There's been a mass spreading of diseases and problems. All of the patients on the first floor were infected, and there are far too many different viruses and hexes between the lot of them to sort them out one by one."

Hermione and Severus both frowned. "But how?" she asked. "There are protective wards to keep things from spreading from patient to patient or patient to visitor!"

The healer dodged a flying spell and stupefied another of the people within the chaos before answering. "There were wards. Someone managed to destroy all of them on the first floor and he was on his way to the second when the ministry guards realized what was going on. They stopped him getting further, but I think he got away. The rest of the hospital is quite the opposite of this, though everything is on lockdown and to enter any other floor you'll have to get a ministry guard convinced that neither of you is infected or carrying anything, and they can take you where you need to go."

Hermione's brow creased again. "And _you_ don't think we have anything?"

The healer laughed manically and shook his head. He nodded towards Severus and said, "No, I don't think so, especially after that comment, but mostly because we've had an entire conversation without you trying to hex my nose off. And I know you two; Snape and Granger, isn't it?"

Severus nodded once. The healer nodded to them, wished them luck, and reentered the mess of people all through the room. Hermione knew she should be thinking of other things, but it occurred to her that Severus had not taken his arms from her, and they were still wrapped around her shoulders, crossing just below her collar bone and holding her close. She blinked, trying to clear her mind, but the fact that he was willingly holding her so close, and in public, was hard not to ponder. She was taken from her thoughts when he did release her shoulders, stepping back away from her.

Harry felt his mouth open in amazement at the confusion stretching through the room before him. He had only opened the door to see if things were improving, but they only looked worse. There was a steadily growing line of stupefied people in one corner, where the healers had moved them after removing them from the chaos. Then he noticed two familiar figures, one wearing all black and the other clad in a flowing, graceful black and red cape. His mouth fell open even wider when he saw that the taller figure had a hand placed protectively on the small of the shorter person's back. Snape and Hermione were making their way along the wall in his direction, though he didn't think they'd seen him yet. He watched as a crazed visitor pointed their wand in Hermione's direction and shouted something. A jet of red light flashed, and Harry blinked, but when he looked, Hermione didn't appear to have been hit.

Snape was constantly taking hold of her shoulders or her arm and gently but quickly pulling her back towards him, pushing her away, or forcing her to duck as oncoming spells and hexes flew their way. He stupefied whoever sent any kind of enchantment towards Hermione, seemingly furious with them for this offense, no matter how confused and ill in the mind the caster was. Harry found himself transfixed by the way Snape moved around her, touched her, seemed to be talking to her as they went. To anyone else, it might not be so obvious, especially with everything else going on, but to Harry it was quite apparent that Snape cared about Hermione and was more than just protective.

Hermione looked up and saw a familiar face peering at her from behind the door. Harry moved out of the way and left the door open only just enough for her and Severus to get in. Severus gave her a gentle push and she was through the door, and then he stepped through behind her and they closed it behind them. Hermione explained their real reason for being there and Harry led them towards the lift, so they could get to the floor where the Malfoys were. After the chaos downstairs, it felt strange and wrong somehow to be standing calmly in the lift, silent and waiting to reach the proper floor.

Harry noticed that now there wasn't a confused mess of infected witches and wizards dueling and casting spells, Snape didn't touch Hermione. He stood beside her, but kept his distance with his one hand on his wand and the other hanging at his side. Deciding that it was a bit too quiet as they waited while the lift rose and did so at a painstakingly slow pace, Harry spoke. "Are you alright?" he looked at Hermione.

She looked bemused. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

He grinned and said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Well I was just concerned; you only had a couple of hexes and curses flying at you back there. It seems a miracle you made it out unscathed."

Hermione laughed, though it was rather humorless. "I wouldn't be fine if it weren't for Severus," and she turned and smiled at him.

He raised his eyebrows at her and growled, "You're obviously blind. Most of those spells were coming right at you, where you could easily see them, and you never moved."

She bit her lip and Harry noticed that Snape rolled his eyes at her. He watched the two, trying to accept the fact that Hermione could possibly be in love with the dark, seemingly emotionless and cruel man beside her. And the idea that he loved her back was something he found just as hard to grasp. Snape was at least a head taller than she was, and Harry found it amusing that the man was listening to her without making a cruel comment. Then again, if he loved her, then those remarks that had caused her tears before were probably a thing of the past.

"Apparently I am blind," Hermione said as if it were nothing. Then she looked at Severus, biting her lip and grinning at him before releasing her lip to say, "Thank you."

He rolled his eyes again, and stiffened when she stepped closer to him and took his arm, leaning her head against his shoulder. Of all places and times, he thought this was hardly the right setting for displays of affectionate, and with Potter watching? He narrowed his eyes, studying the boy's expression. So he knew. Had Hermione told him? No. She wouldn't have done that. He must have come to the realization on his own and when he confronted her she had been honest. But to Severus' surprise, Potter didn't seem disgusted by Hermione's affection for him. In fact, he seemed more intrigued than anything.

Hermione glanced up at Severus. Well at least now he knew that Harry wasn't as blind and unknowing as the rest of the people around them. He seemed to have accepted this with more ease than she had expected, though it was obviously taking a bit of control by both men not to make eye contact or cause things to become more awkward than they were. Laughing on the inside, but feeling drained already even though they hadn't even done what they'd come for, Hermione let go of Severus and stepped away from him as the lift stopped and the door opened.

Harry led them to a door in one of the corridors and nodded towards it before reaching out and opening it. The three of them stepped inside and closed the door behind them. There were two beds in the room, but only one was occupied. The other had been made and didn't look like it had been slept in for a while. Severus and Harry looked up to the wall opposite the door, where a tall blonde woman stood with her back to them, staring through the magical window before her. Hermione's eyes were drawn instantly to the bed farthest from the door, however, to where a prone figure lay, completely obscured by bandages and wrappings.

Harry motioned for them to be quiet. Narcissa said, without turning from the enchanted window, "He's not any better and you came to change his bandages only moments ago. Please, leave us."

Hermione glanced at Severus and then at Harry. Severus' eyes were dark and cold. Harry looked like he pitied the woman at the window. "We aren't healers," Harry said quietly at last.

At this, Narcissa stiffened. Her voice changed from polite and pleading to brusque and cold. "What do you want, this time, Potter?"

Hermione scowled at Narcissa's back. "That's no way to talk to the person who saved your life," she said calmly.

Narcissa turned around when Hermione spoke and her gaze drifted over the three of them. She glared at Hermione and said, "Potter arrived in time to scare Rookwood off. He wasn't there fast enough to save Lucius, or . . ." her voice broke, but she forced herself to say it, "or Draco."

Hermione looked to the occupied bed again. She stepped to the bedside and saw Narcissa lean her way, as if longing to stop her and force her away from her son. Narcissa opened her mouth, but rather than words, all that left her was a soft _hiss_. Hermione looked down at Draco's face, where the only visible part of him—his eyes—could be seen between the bandages. Hermione's eyes left his face and she looked up at Narcissa, who was now on the opposite side of the bed. "I can save him," Hermione said quietly.

Narcissa's eyes widened. She shook her head. "The healers can't; there's no way that you could-"

"I can," Hermione interrupted gently. Then her voice became indifferent and she said, "But that is up to you."

Narcissa narrowed her eyes at the younger witch. "What is it you desire of me?"

Hermione stared back into the woman's pain-filled blue eyes and said, "You'll start by answering our questions about what happened when Rookwood came to your home."

Harry walked over and sat down in one of the two chairs at Draco's bedside and motioned to the other, which was near Narcissa. She gazed at Hermione a moment longer before stepping nearer the chair and sinking slowly into it. Then her eyes turned to Harry. There was obvious distrust in her eyes, but they darted to Draco and she seemed decided.

Hermione waited with bated breath until Narcissa nodded to Harry. Severus walked over to stand beside her and he looked down at Draco. Hermione wondered what was going through his mind; Draco had quite obviously been his favorite student when in school. But now, after the war, after everything, what did Severus feel about the dying boy in the bed?

Hermione looked up, but Severus kept his eyes on Draco when Harry asked Narcissa, "What happened?"

She took a deep breath and began. "I don't know everything. Only . . . Lucius . . ." she seemed pained when saying his name, and Hermione could imagine why. ". . . Could tell you what happened first. I am convinced that he—Rookwood—tried to get Lucius to join him. I know that Lucius would have refused; after the war we were done with the darkness and simply wanted to live quietly and without more trouble. Draco and I were in the great room when the sounds of a duel came from above us; crashes, things breaking, more than one set of feet moving quickly across the floor.

"I wanted to get Draco out and then deal with the intruder alongside my husband, but the foolish boy ran in the opposite direction and went upstairs to help his father. He was halfway up the staircase when something exploded in one of the rooms above us. Then whoever had won the duel there came rushing down the stairway and they dodged Draco's hex and hit him with multiple curses and spells." She took a deep breath and went on, "he fell down the stairs unconscious and hit the floor hard.

"Rookwood hadn't seen me yet and I hid near the stairs, waiting until the man had passed and then dragging Draco away from the stairs. But he saw us, and then . . ." she trailed off, staring hard at the wall before finding her voice again. "I don't remember much. Just that I was dueling Rookwood and dragging Draco to safety and panicking because somehow, I knew Lucius was dead."

She stopped, and everyone in the room was silent for a moment. She was trembling, and there were tears in her eyes, though none of them had spilled over on her cheeks yet. She took a shaky breath and turned to Harry. "You arrived just after I'd gotten Draco behind the table in the dining room, where I'd moved him after Rookwood passed, but he heard us and came in to finish us both. He was so shocked when you came in that he rushed out the back door and as soon as he was outside of the protective wards around the house, he disapparated."

Harry nodded silently.

Narcissa wiped a stray tear from her face and turned her eyes on Hermione. She said nothing, but her eyes were asking, what more must she do to save her son?

Harry blinked and found himself flashing back. Through Snape's memories and personal experience, he had seen the truth; Narcissa had gone to great lengths to protect her son. She had never wanted him to be a death eater, and he had been forced to become one because of the dark lord's threats to him and his parents. Narcissa had called upon Snape to make the unbreakable vow in a last attempt to save her son's life should he fail to kill Dumbledore. And she had lied to Voldemort, told an untruth to her own master, because she knew that by doing so, she could go back to the castle and possibly find Draco. Even though she had done so many terrible things, Harry felt respect for the woman sitting beside him. No matter what she had done or where her allegiance had been all of her life, she had risked her own life and done whatever it took in order to protect her son. Surely even she, like Harry's own mum, was proof that a mother's love knew no bounds.

He turned and looked at Hermione. She raised her eyebrows at him, silently asking if he wanted more information than Narcissa had given. He let his gaze fall on Draco as an answer and she nodded. Narcissa had watched this exchange carefully and looked on the verge of hysteria. She was convinced that they had lied to her about saving Draco in order to get what information they needed. Her eyes darted to Severus, who was still beside Draco's bed. He gazed back for a moment before looking to Hermione.

Hermione reached into her robes and pulled her beaded bag out, taking the phial of phoenix tears from it. Harry and Severus' eyes widened slightly at the sight, but Narcissa only looked confused for a moment before she seemed to comprehend, and then she watched Hermione with a look of awed interest in her usually cold eyes. Hermione took a deep breath and looked to Narcissa. "There is one more condition."

The woman was trembling, barely daring to breathe, it seemed. "Anything," she whispered, obviously desperate.

Hermione met the woman's gaze and they stared at each other. "You will tell no one of this," she said, lifting the glass phial.

Narcissa nodded.

"Will you help me with his bandages?" Hermione asked, and Narcissa rose from her seat, standing on the opposite side of the bed and looking at Hermione.

Hermione handed the tears to Severus and he nodded, stepping back as the two women carefully unwrapped Draco. Hermione held out her hand and Severus handed back the phial of tears, which she used sparingly. But the few drops of liquid she lent the dying boy were enough. His wounds closed and left only thin scars on his skin, which was unbelievably pale, just like Severus'. Narcissa watched in silence and gasped as at last her son was whole once more, sobbing as she threw herself onto the bed beside him and buried her face in the blankets, her hands resting on her son where dire wounds had stopped her before.

Hermione stepped back, nearer Severus, and Harry rose from his seat and joined them. Hermione cleared her throat and Narcissa looked up. "You will tell the healers, when they come and ask—and they will—that you were asleep in the chair near his bed when we came and you know nothing of how he was healed."

Narcissa nodded. She blinked and looked at Harry. There was a look of grateful contempt in her eyes. The same look was given Severus, and then she looked at Hermione and the contempt was actually gone. Hermione was shocked; Narcissa Malfoy was allowing herself to feel grateful, thankful towards a Mudblood for a kind action. She spoke no words of thanks, but her eyes conveyed what her lips would not and it was enough.

Harry left Hermione and Severus in search of Ron, who was also at the wizarding hospital, and once he'd gone Hermione turned to Severus. She asked timidly, "Can we go and see . . .?"

He smirked at her. "I daresay you've the right to visit your own parents without my consent, Miss Granger."

She rolled her eyes and swatted his arm gently. "I wasn't asking your permission, I was wondering whether you'd accompany me or leave me here and go back to Hogwarts. And it's _Hermione_, not _Miss_ _Granger_!"

He shook his head, smirking down at her once again. He looked almost amused enough to laugh or give an actual smile. _Almost_.

Hermione bit her lip, smiling at him as she did and causing him to scowl. "I wish you would stop," he said, obviously irritated.

She did, wrapping both her arms around his one and leaning against his shoulder again. He sighed; they were alone in the lift, but he still felt fairly awkward and extremely nervous when it came to these kinds of things.

The lift stopped and Hermione let out her breath in a huff as she released his arm. Most of the healers and some of the Ministry guards were downstairs so there were few who could have seen or even cared if Hermione had continued to lean on him, but it wasn't worth the risk so they walked side by side but without touching as they entered the large, open room where her parents were. They stopped at Neville's parents and Hermione said hello to them while Severus stood at the foot of their beds and watched her, bemused.

Then they walked to her parents. They stopped at the foot of their beds, and Severus hung back to watch as he had before. He glanced quickly around the room when Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her parents, who were propped up with pillows and watching them. "I hardly think this is . . ." he muttered, but trailed off when he saw the look on Hermione's face.

She sat down on the edge of her mother's bed and he on the edge of her dad's. He was extremely uncomfortable until he looked into the face of the man whose bed he was sitting on and saw how boyish and awed his expression was.

Hermione smiled and started talking to her mother in low tones about Severus, and her mum actually giggled with her occasionally. But Severus wasn't listening. He had, without quite knowing why or when he started, begun to compare himself to the man beside him.

Hermione's father had dark brown hair which had turned mostly gray, and kind eyes. His face held a few wrinkles, but not many. Ignoring the sudden impulse to ask Hermione how old her parents were, Severus guessed that they must be just a bit older than he was. Knowing that he himself hadn't a single gray hair and that his face was still smooth and wrinkle-free, Severus felt suddenly much younger than Hermione's father. But looking into the kind eyes staring back, which held so much childish delight, he also felt extremely old.

Turning away from her mum, Hermione stood up and looked down at her father. "Dad," she said quietly, taking his hand, "This is Severus."

Severus glanced from Hermione's fervent face to the much older face of her father. The man was now grinning at his daughter, and then he looked at Severus and his smile widened.

"He likes you," said Hermione, sounding pleased.

Severus raised an eyebrow at her, wondering how she was seeing these deeper meanings in her parents' simple, childish behavior. He glanced at her father's face, wondering if he was grasping the fact that his daughter was introducing him to the man she loved, a man who was nearly his age. He looked back to Hermione and was startled to see her eyes filling with tears. She took a deep breath and bit her lip, looking from her father to her mother. Both Severus and Hermione turned quickly when someone walked into the room behind them.

Harry and Ron approached and stood at the foot of Hermione's mother's bed. Severus had the feeling that she had been about to turn to him for comfort, but with Harry and Ron there she chose not to. Instead, she jumped from the bed and threw herself into Harry's arms. Severus noted that Harry was looking at him quizzically, obviously wondering why Hermione was in her current tearful state. Ron was eyeing Severus suspiciously. Severus saw this and rolled his eyes, glaring coldly at the redhead, who glared back.

Hermione had her arms around Harry's neck and her face buried in his shoulder. He took a few steps back, bringing her with him, and left the Snape and the Weasley to their glaring contest, which, Harry thought with a boyish grin, Snape was most definitely winning at. He pulled Hermione far enough away from the other two and stroked her back, whispering in her ear, "What's the matter?"

She sniffed and relinquished her hold on him just enough to lean back and look into his face. "All the years I dreamed about it," she sniffed, "I never thought it would be like this."

Harry was terribly confused by what she said and had no idea what she was talking about, but waited for her to say something that would make it a sensible statement. "You never thought it would be like this," he repeated, asking with his eyes what she meant.

"I always thought I'd introduce my parents to a boyfriend before I decided I loved him," she said, and Harry began to understand.

Hermione had indeed, as she'd said, expected to introduce her parents to her boyfriend. Snape wasn't her boyfriend, and as she'd said, she had planned on introducing them before she thought she loved him, when she loved Snape already. And she had probably imagined what it would be like, how her parents would react to the young man she brought home. Now, though, her parents didn't even know how to count to ten. They would never grasp the fact that their daughter was introducing them to the man that she loved.

Hermione hugged him again, though her tears were subsiding. Harry wiped them from her cheeks and gave her a weak smile. She smiled back, but it was halfhearted. Harry put an arm around her shoulder and guided her back to her parents' beds. "Sorry," she said, looking at all three of them. Then she walked up and hugged Ron, distracting him from Severus, who he had still been glaring at.

"'Mione," he said, and Hermione's eyes widened because she recognized the emotional tone of voice he was using. She eyed him warily hoping he was just pitying her and it wasn't what she thought. But as always, she was right. Though this time she wanted so badly to be wrong . . .

''Mione," he repeated, and she took a deep breath, blinking and looking up into Ron's face.

"Yeah?" she asked, trying not to flinch away from the sad-but-affectionate look he was giving her.

She saw him glance over his shoulder at Severus, who he seemed less than happy to have present at the time, but then he turned back to her. "I'm sorry," he said. She knew he wasn't talking about something recent and that he was remembering their row about Severus when he was dying in bed and she was his caretaker.

"Ronald," she began, but he stopped her by lifting a hand and putting a finger on her lips. She cringed at the personal touch, but he didn't seem to notice and at some point had put his arm around her, so she couldn't escape. Her eyes darted to Severus to see what he thought of all this. He was watching, his expression bored, but his eyes were boring into the back of Ron's head with fervor. Her eyes returned to Ron's face when he spoke again, and he still had one finger on her lips to keep her quiet.

"Please," he said, looking truly apologetic. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean any of what I said, then or in the letter! I swear! I was just upset! And now . . . now I can't sleep at night, I can't think during the day, I can't focus, I can't do anything! Without you, my happy memories don't seem happy anymore; I can't even conjure a patronus! Please, 'Mione!"

She swallowed, shaking her head. He took his finger from her lips but she flinched yet again when he put his now-free arm around her waist and pulled her closer. "Ron, I can't," she said quietly. "Please, I don't feel that way about you anymore."

He clenched his jaw and they were both silent for a moment. Then Hermione saw it in his eyes. He was desperate and she knew what he was about to do. She started to pull away, but it was too late and he was too strong. He kissed her.

Time seemed to slow down. In the five seconds that passed next, Harry found himself wondering what Snape's expression showed but was unable to tear his eyes away from Ron and Hermione's kiss. Severus felt his usually complete control of his features slacken and knew he looked slightly confused on the outside. But it was nothing compared to what he was feeling on the inside. He had thought it hurt to let Hermione go, to push her away before he had accepted that he should love her, but now, this? No words could describe the pain that cut into him like a knife through his heart to see Hermione with someone else. He had been upset when Weasley held her against her will, yes, but hadn't dared interfere. But now? He was kissing her! Severus was paralyzed by emotion, frozen and held in place by the mixture of shock and fury that rose up like a tidal wave in his chest.

Time seemed to return to its normal pace then, and Hermione put her hands on Ron's chest and shoved him hard, fighting and tearing away from his embrace. She took several steps backward, away from him, breathing hard. Harry stepped up beside her and put a hand on her arm to steady her because she was shaking. She stared at Ron, and he stared back. Lifting the arm that Harry wasn't holding, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, disgusted. She leaned against Harry slightly, still trembling. Harry held her up, not looking at her but staring in disbelief at Ron.

Severus felt more than just relief at the look Hermione was giving Weasley. There was utter disbelief, shock, and contempt on her face. Potter seemed just as disturbed and unhappy with what the redhead had done. He realized that at some point he had risen from the edge of the bed and was on his feet.

Hermione looked past Ron to Severus, whose face was calm. But his eyes were the darkest, coldest, most frightening black she'd ever seen, and he was glaring at the back of Ron's head with such contempt and passionate hatred that even Hermione cringed. Harry felt her stiffen slightly against him and looked past Ron to Snape, finding himself shaken by the amount of revulsion and loathing in the potion master's eyes, which were locked on Ron.

And while Hermione was looking at Severus, Ron noticed her eyes weren't on him. He noticed that when she was focused on the man behind him, her eyes softened and the disgust on her face was gone. He whirled around to face Snape.

Severus didn't flinch when Weasley spun around to look at him, but Hermione and Harry had obviously not expected it. Hermione let go of Harry and took a step forward, suddenly very afraid of what was about to happen.

"_You_," snarled Ron, "_you_ took her from me!"

Severus' face gave nothing away, though there was still loathing in his eyes. "Did I?" he asked, sounding almost amused by the idea.

Ron looked shocked. He had obviously detected the sarcasm in Severus' voice, but he seemed to have also caught the fleeting glance that the older man sent Hermione's way. Harry stood the farthest away from the three, watching, holding breath. Hermione took several more steps in the direction of Ron and Severus, who were glaring at each other once more, but now with such animosity that had never been between them before.

"She loves you," Ron said simply. His voice was cold, but there was obvious shock and confusion at his own words.

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "Perhaps," he mused, his expression bored though his eyes were still sending unfathomable hatred towards Ron.

"You love her," Ron accused, though he looked as if he was still trying to believe himself as he said it.

Severus said nothing. His eyes glittered maliciously, and Hermione finally could stand it no longer. She came from her paralyzed trance as soon as Ron pulled his wand and pointed it at Severus. She ran past him to stand next to the older man, and she pointed her wand at Ron. He looked incredulous, and it gave Hermione an opportunity. "_Expelliarmus_!"

Ron's wand flew through the air and Hermione caught it and put her own wand back in her robes, tucking away Ron's as well. "There's no need for a duel in the middle of a hospital ward, Ronald," she said, and her voice was much steadier than she felt.

Seeing how she was swaying on her feet, Severus moved closer and put a hand on her arm. He had expected to steady her, and not anything else. However, she leaned against him, looking faint.

"You love him," Ron accused.

Severus waited for Hermione's reply. "I do," she said simply.

Ron's face was a twisted mess of emotions; hurt, surprise, disbelief, wonder, amusement. "He doesn't love you," he snarled, "he can't. The old bat doesn't have the capacity to love."

Hermione shocked everyone then; she laughed loudly, almost manically. Then she stopped and glared at Ron, having gotten her point across with her laugh alone.

"Say it then," Ron challenged, looking to Severus.

Something mysterious was dancing along with the hatred in the potion master's eyes as he looked at Ron. "I love her," Severus said, sounding quite amused by all of this.

Ron switched tactics. "You didn't try to stop me kissing her," he sneered, though the slightest light of uncertainty crept into his eyes even as he spoke.

Hermione knew that Harry and Ron couldn't see it, but she felt Severus stiffen beside her and his hand tighten on her shoulder, though he was still gentle. Severus spoke again, and his voice was still cold and hard, though there was also an obvious note of raw emotion behind it as well. "If I truly love her, I will allow her to love another, should she choose him over me. She was choosing."

Ron took a deep breath and looked at Hermione. "Well?"

Hermione let her breath out in a short laugh. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked, stepping closer to Severus, though they had already been standing shoulder-to-shoulder.

"Alright," Ron said, and before they could say another word he had left.

Harry approached them and said, "You realize he'll tell anyone and everyone he can about you once he's recovered from the hurt?"

Severus smirked. Hermione looked up at him, worried. She bit her lip and he scowled down at her, though his eyes were dark, melted chocolate and there was an amused light in them. "Do not worry," he said. Before he could explain further, a healer walked into the room, looking quite ordinary, and it was obvious he was just there to take care of the patients.

Hermione made to step away from Severus, but to her and Harry's mutual shock and astonishment, Severus stepped closer to her and held out his arm. Hermione didn't take it, but looked up into his face, biting her lip again as she asked with her eyes what he was doing.

"Do not worry," he repeated, and he smirked at her and Harry's alarmed faces as he added, "I've decided—with your consent of course—that I will no longer let other young men think you are single. You happen to be spoken for. I don't believe I would enjoy another instance of some ignorant bastard kissing you in my presence again."

Hermione's hands flew to her mouth in surprise, but then she smiled at Severus and took his arm, leaning her head on his shoulder. Harry watched the two and shook his head, still trying to figure out what it was that drew Hermione to the potions master and what on earth in her it was that kept the man so protective and caring of her alone. With a pang, Harry wondered whether Hermione was actually quite like his mother had been and that was why Severus loved her so. "May I escort you to two the door?" he asked.

Severus nodded once and Hermione smiled, letting go of Severus and walking to Harry, who she hugged. "Do you think Ron will forgive you?" she asked as she took out the redhead's wand and handed it to Harry.

He frowned, tucking into his own robes. "I didn't really participate in the whole argument, so I don't think he considers me as having been involved."

"Good," Hermione said, looking worried about Ron in spite of her anger with him, "he needs you, you know."

Harry nodded. "And I need him, much as I hate to be around the bloke sometimes when he gets mad."

Hermione smiled and imitated Ron's voice, saying, "He just goes completely mental sometimes!"

She returned to Severus' side and took his arm again, and the three of them walked to the lift and went to the main floor. The healers had gotten things under control, and with Harry there to vouch for them, Severus and Hermione made it to the door without trouble and without being questioned to be sure they didn't have some extremely contagious mental disease.

Harry left them at the entrance and they stepped out onto the muggle street. Severus glanced down at her and smirked before they disapparated back to Hogwarts. Out of habit, Hermione started to let go of Severus' arm and step away when they arrived outside the school grounds, but he raised an eyebrow at her and she took his arm again, leaning her head on his shoulder as they entered the grounds. "We're in time for dinner," she said as they passed the whomping willow.

"We have a bit of time before then," he said, and what he meant was in his eyes.

"McGonagall?" Hermione asked, forgetting to refer to the headmistress by her first name.

With a single nod, Severus looked down at her and smirked. "McGonagall."

**I am very excited to know what you think of this! Please review if you have a moment! Thank you for sticking with me throughout the story so far! I love you all so very much! ~Taelr**


	20. The Snake and the Lioness

Minerva McGonagall was sitting in her office, looking over school records, when someone knocked on the door. Sure that she had asked no one to see her, she assumed it was Severus and Hermione, back from their trip to Saint Mungo's.

She waited patiently as they entered and Hermione sat down in the chair in front of her desk. She conjured another chair for Severus, but he ignored its existence and stood behind Hermione's chair instead. Ignoring this strange behavior because there were more important matters to ponder at the moment, the headmistress raised her eyebrows. "Well?"

Severus was silent. Hermione was the one to speak. "Draco is recovering," she said before recounting the state of Saint Mungo's when they arrived but reassuring the headmistress that the rest of the hospital was fine before repeating what Narcissa had told them. She added that she'd visited her parents and that Harry and Ron had visited them with her, but nothing more. Remembering her row with Ron, she subconsciously reached to the place in her robes where she kept her wand and had kept Ron's for a short while. By now she was sure that Harry had caught up to his friend and returned his wand to him.

There was silence in the office for several moments. Then the headmistress spoke. "I am sure you reached the obvious conclusion that Rookwood is the one behind the undoing of Saint Mungo's meticulously done wards?"

Severus and Hermione nodded. McGonagall noticed that Severus leaned forward, setting his hands on the back of Hermione's chair and looking over the top of her head. She chose to ignore this as well; she was sure that Severus was simply keeping his protective post as he felt indebted to the young woman who had saved his life more than once. Severus had always been a bit strange and she'd found long ago that his mind worked differently than most people's, so she assumed that this protective behavior was just part of his being different. "I'm sure Harry and Kingsley think it was Rookwood too," Hermione said, bringing Minerva from her thoughts.

"You didn't discuss it?" the headmistress was obviously surprised.

"No," Hermione answered truthfully. There had been too much else going on for the source of the chaotic mess on the first floor to cross their conversation. Remembering how Ron had kissed her, Hermione resisted the urge to lift her hand and wipe the back of it on her lips once more.

It was so strange for her; once upon a time Ron had been her boyfriend and she had kissed him, hugged him, loved him even, without shame. And there had been no need for shame then. But now, after he had kissed her today, she felt as if her lips had been contaminated and needed to be cleaned. He now seemed to be something that shouldn't be touched, and kissing him was a thing that sounded so very revolting to her now she wondered how she had ever relished the touch of his lips. She was brought back from her thoughts when Minerva spoke.

"That is all, then?" the older witch was looking to the clock on the wall. Hermione glanced that way as well and turned to looked at Severus over her shoulder, out of the corner of her eye; they still had a few minutes before dinner.

Before Hermione could speak, however, Severus did. "There is one more thing, though it is not related to today's events," he said quite calmly.

Hermione wondered how he could keep his voice so steady and almost impassive while she herself was feeling tumultuous on the inside. Her stomach was tying itself in knots even at that moment. Had she tried to speak, she would have stammered and stuttered and her voice would probably have been strangely high pitched and unnatural. She watched the headmistress' face.

"Yes?" she asked simply, obviously suspecting that there was something amiss. The look on Severus' face told her it probably concerned Hermione, and she expected him to ask her about protection for everyone within the school, though he would of course be alluding to his desire for Hermione to be as safe as possible.

Hermione waited, and with every passing second, she could feel her heart beating faster and louder, until she wondered at why the headmistress hadn't looked at her and asked what the noise was. When they were both silent, McGonagall said, "Severus?"

Still, he was silent. Hermione didn't blame him if he didn't know what to say; she had no clue how she would break the news to the headmistress and was waiting for his lead.

"If this is about your concern for Hermione . . ." the headmistress began.

"It is," Severus agreed quietly.

"And?" the witch asked, pursing her lips as she waited.

"I am more than concerned about her safety," Severus stated simply.

The headmistress didn't appear to have heard him. "Well of course you will feel that you need to protect her during this time of danger, as she did save your life on more than on one occasion. You will feel indebted, and that is natural. However, Severus, I hardly think you're being reasonable by insisting on protecting her as you are-"

"I love her."

McGonagall froze, stiffening and not moving, staring in obvious disbelief at Severus. His blatant statement when he interrupted had apparently left her shaken. She didn't think she'd heard him correctly. "Pardon?" she asked, "I don't believe I heard you properly . . .?"

Severus straightened and looked her in the eye. "I love her," he said slowly, as if that would help the headmistress comprehend what he was saying.

McGonagall's mind was muddled. What he was saying made no sense. Surely he couldn't be speaking of Potter's mother? "Lily," she muttered, still fairly confused.

Severus didn't flinch when the headmistress said the name of the woman he had loved first, the one he had loved before Hermione. "No," he said, still calm and with a clear, steady voice, "I love _Hermione_."

McGonagall's eyes had wandered over the room, but they flew back to Severus' face. "What was that, Severus?"

"I love her," he said, and he moved his hands to rest on Hermione's shoulders. He felt very nervous and awkward doing so, but that was on the inside and on the outside he seemed calm and confident, and absolutely unperturbed by the look on Minerva's face.

The headmistress blinked rapidly a few times, and then simply stared. She didn't seem to comprehend. Then she suddenly stood and leaned over her desk towards them. "That is a very serious thing, Severus," she said sternly.

Hermione felt the absurd urge to smile and laugh at the how odd a situation it was. She managed to remain silent and straight-faced, however.

Severus chuckled dryly behind Hermione. "I am quite aware of how very serious it is," he said, still calm.

McGonagall appeared to be calculating, thinking, searching. It occurred to Hermione that she was probably trying to find something legally wrong with a relationship between Severus and Hermione, but she seemed unable. She looked back up from her desk at last and her eyes were locked on Hermione's face rather than Severus'. "And you?" she asked.

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and reminded herself that she had done nothing wrong so the feeling of terror swelling in her chest oughtn't to be there. "I love him," she said, and her voice was steady and clear, much to her own surprise.

McGonagall was silent for a moment, eyes darting from one face before her to the other. "This," she said at last, "is absurd and ridiculous. You both obviously caught something at the hospital."

"I don't think so," Hermione said calmly, and she was surprised by the sureness in her voice.

"Well then, how long have you loved him?" the older witch asked, looking as if she felt there was victory within reach.

Hermione thought back. "Since . . . shortly after my birthday." A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she remembered how shocked but slightly pleased she'd been to find Severus following her.

McGonagall frowned, but said nothing for another tense moment. Then she looked at Severus. "And how long have you loved her?"

Hermione didn't have to turn around and look to know that he was smirking at the headmistress. "For just as long, I believe, as she has loved me."

Silence reigned for several moments. "This is ridiculous," McGonagall said again. She waited for one of the people in front of her desk to tell her it was all some ill-planned joke, but neither did. Rather, Hermione and Severus just looked as if they too were waiting, though she assumed it was for her to comprehend that they weren't making fun. She found her mouth going dry. There was no law against what was happening, or supposedly happening, between her two colleagues. Hermione was an adult in both the muggle world and the wizarding world, and legally able to make her own decisions about love in both. But Severus had been, based on her information from Hermione on what Harry had seen in the pensieve, so very loyal and in love with Lily, it just wouldn't make sense for him to move on. And of all people, _Hermione_?

She pursed her lips, looking over the two people before her. "If it has gone on this long, why have you decided to make it known now?"

Severus, with a smirk that was twisted by the pain of the memory, said, "Weasley made a desperate attempt to woo Hermione once again during our visit to her parents at the hospital."

The headmistress raised her eyebrows, asking for more detail. "He kissed me," Hermione heard herself say, though she hadn't thought to. At this, McGonagall's brow creased further.

"I will not have ignorant bastards snogging what is not theirs in my presence again," Severus repeated what he'd said earlier.

McGonagall frowned at them, and then her face cleared. She sighed. "All right. This is your decision, Severus. But Hermione, do you really think this is the best decision, for you?"

Hermione could tell Severus was smirking again. "Are you insulting me, Minerva?" he asked, and there was amusement in his voice.

The headmistress gave a wry smile. "I suppose I shouldn't do that."

She glanced at the clock again and said, obviously not willing to let the subject go, "It is time we went to dinner. But both of you, be very careful; students are prone to notice more than is often expected of them, and Rookwood will be targeting anyone you care about, Severus."

"We are aware," Severus said, "but are we honestly to keep feigning loathing for one another in front of the students?"

McGonagall smiled wryly once more. "I suppose it would be foolish to ask you to do so. However, both of you, I'm sure, are aware of the regulations when it comes to teacher relationships during school?"

"Of course," Severus answered with another smirk.

He released Hermione's shoulders and she stood, but he offered her his arm as soon as she had stepped near his side. She raised her eyebrows at him; yes, she had read the rules and regulations regarding relationships between teachers, but she hadn't paid them too much attention, never then imagining that she'd have to follow them. Thinking back, she remembered that she and Severus could, indeed, walk arm in arm and allow behavior that suggested they cared for each other in the presence of students, though anything beyond that was crossing the line. Kissing, holding hands, and most public displays of affection were forbidden. Hermione actually giggled when she pictured Severus daring to kiss her in the presence of anyone.

McGonagall looked mildly irritated when Hermione took his waiting arm, but turned her back on them, and they followed her out of her office and to the Great Hall. While they were on their way out the door, Hermione could have sworn she heard a voice that sounded much like Dumbledore's musing quietly, "Wonderful! How beautiful and fascinating a thing love is, the way it breaks through seemingly impossible barriers and makes its way in, softening even the hardest of hearts."

Most of the students were already in the Great Hall when the three teachers stepped into the entrance hall, but just then three girls came from the direction of the library. They were giggling amongst themselves, and Severus recognized them as the girls from Hufflepuff who liked the idea of Him and Hermione being together. They took one look at their two teachers, arm in arm, and all three of them squealed, covering their mouths with their hands and looking at each other with shining eyes before they ran into the Great Hall ahead of their professors.

It didn't take a genius to know that they were headed for their table, where they would whisper about what they'd seen and the news would spread like wildfire. Hermione took a deep breath as they entered the Great Hall, and it seemed that all of the students' eyes were on her and Severus as they came in and walked towards the staff table. McGonagall had hurried ahead of them, and Hermione realized what a sight they must be, walking up to the tables alone together.

Ginny Weasley was nudged by a friend and looked up from her book, feeling her mouth fall open in shock when she saw her best friend walking arm in arm towards the staff table with none other than Snape himself. Her eyes were wide and she stared, unable to believe what she was seeing. Surely someone had slipped some sort of potion into her pumpkin juice at lunch? She must be hallucinating. But what about Ron? She hadn't seen him in a week, but he'd said before he left that he was going to get Hermione back if it was the last thing he did. And today Hermione had gone to Saint Mungo's, where Ron was guarding with Harry. Had they met up? What had happened? Ginny had never wanted so badly to jump up from her seat and run to the staff table to talk to a professor.

Hermione let go of Severus' arm as he pulled out her chair for her and she took her seat, looking over the many shocked faces of the students gazing up at her. This was it. Everyone knew now. She saw a flash of fiery red hair and found Ginny's astonished face looking up at her. She knew that as soon as breakfast was over the next day, Ginny would be at her side wanting to go to her classroom to talk about this. But she didn't mind; now she could at last spill all of her emotions about it and the full story to her best friend. Harry needn't know the details. Besides, he was a boy, and he wouldn't really be all that interested, but Ginny would care very much about the entire story. Also, if Harry wanted to know _that_ bad he would ask Ginny about it once it became public knowledge that the potions master and the transfiguration teacher were a couple.

Hermione felt the smile fade from her face as she imagined the things Rita Skeeter would undoubtedly write about the two of them once she got wind of the news. That nasty woman was still running amuck, writing lies about people and selling her articles to _the Daily Prophet_, where they were read by most of the wizarding families in the country.

Hermione and Severus walked back to the teachers' lounge arm in arm, and on their way Ginny shot Hermione a look that told her they were definitely having a talk in the transfiguration classroom or Hermione's office the next day and as soon as possible. Hermione grinned, and to her surprise, Ginny actually grinned back. The teachers walking to their quarters were in the dungeon when several Slytherin students passed on the way to their common room. Hermione noticed that they gave her dirty looks, but was astonished; the looks she received were nothing compared to the ugly glares and furious looks that Severus was getting.

Severus noticed this as well, though he only felt protective of Hermione against the glares being sent her way. He could care less what the brats from his house thought about he and Hermione. Of course they would be upset; she was, after all, from Gryffindor, and everyone knew that Slytherin and Gryffindor were mortal enemies. Smirking at the students' backs as they swaggered away, he thought of how he and Hermione's relationship could be likened to a snake and a cat, obvious enemies, making peace and becoming protective of one another.

They stepped into the teachers' lounge and parted ways, Severus walking her to her door and making sure all of the other staff had entered their own rooms or were looking the other way before pulling her in for a swift but sweet embrace and pressing his lips momentarily to the top of her head before letting her go. He watched her disappear into her rooms and then he went to his own.

The next day Hermione woke up and there was tea on the bedside table waiting for her, still the perfect temperature, as it always was. She smiled, knowing Severus had put a house elf up to it, and drank it as she got ready for her day. When she entered the teachers' lounge, most of the other staff had left, and she didn't see Severus among the remaining people, so she left the lounge and started walking towards the Great Hall. When she made it to the staff table Severus was already there, standing and talking to Flitwick, who turned bright red when he saw Hermione walk up, and there was no doubt in her mind that they had just been discussing her. "Good morning," she said kindly to the half-goblin, and he returned a mumbled greeting, though he was still quite red.

Severus pulled out her chair for her, and she took her seat, smiling at him as he sat down beside her. "Morning," she said, her eyes twinkling as she thought about what some of the Gryffindor students must think of their favorite professor falling for their most hated, who was also the head of Slytherin, their enemies.

His eyes were dark melted chocolate when he nodded and said, "Good morning."

McGonagall stood and spoke to the students, reminding them that Rookwood was still on the loose and wreaking havoc, so they must still be careful and take safety precautions. When she sat down again the meal appeared on all of the tables and everyone began to eat. Severus turned to Hermione halfway through the meal, which surprised her, because he had never been one to make small talk so she assumed it must be important. However, he said with a smirk directed at the Slytherin table, "You wouldn't believe the number of _dunderheads_ who came into my classroom this morning with complaints about our surprise for them all last night."

Hermione laughed. She couldn't believe he was actually making pleasant—or semi-pleasant, anyway—conversation. "Hmm," she mused, smiling at the Gryffindor table and saying, "All Slytherins, I presume?"

He nodded once, smirking at the students in his house once again.

"The Gryffindors don't seem to mind so much," Hermione said, eyeing several girls who were sitting clustered together and giggling behind their glasses of pumpkin juice as they pointed and smiled at Hermione and then pointed and made faces at Severus.

"The silly girls who like the idea of _us_," he said, raising an eyebrow, "are fine with it, I am sure. But the rest of them seem a bit worried that their favorite lioness has been caught in the coils of a dark, slimy snake."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, musing over this way of putting it. "No," she said after a moment. "I mean, yes, that's what they think, but I think it's the lioness who's caught the snake, not the other way round."

He smirked at her and went back to eating. Biting her lip and smiling at her food, she did so as well.

As soon as breakfast was over, Hermione stood, watching for the flaming red hair coming her way that would announce Ginny's imminent approach. And soon enough, there it was. She met the girl in the middle of the Great Hall, leaving Severus behind, and they walked without a word to the transfiguration classroom. Ginny closed the door behind them, and Hermione went and sat on the edge of her desk, not comfortable sitting behind it when talking to her best friend, who sat down in front of her on the edge of a student's desk. They were silent, staring at each other for a few moments without a word before Ginny said, "Explain! Tell me everything!"

To Hermione's bemused surprise, the girl looked more excited and interested than upset or apprehensive. And so she launched into the story, beginning with recounting how she had taken the job of being Severus' caretaker when he came back from Saint Mungo's and explaining, bit by bit, how she had come to care about him, though she definitely hadn't loved him then. Ginny asked occasional questions here and there, but for the most part sat in silence and listened with rapt attention. When Hermione told of how she had gone out to wander the dungeon and think one night, Ginny nodded. Then she recounted finding that Severus was following her, and Ginny looked abashed. "He was following you? But why? When was this again?"

Hermione patiently explained, answering every question until Ginny was satisfied, and she found that there was a certain thrill in telling the story of how she and Severus had fallen for each other. She got the part of the story when they kissed for the first time and he pushed her away, and Ginny was looking incredulous. After another round of question and answer time, Ginny allowed her to tell about how miserable she had been.

To Ginny, this explained a lot. The things going on with Severus, especially when Hermione had been depressed and miserable after he pushed her away, had affected her behavior, and Ginny had noticed. Then, Hermione hadn't told what was going on, but now it made sense.

She told of how she had gone to Severus' classroom once again, sure that he had lied, and he had used her vulnerable state to push her away for good. Ginny was obviously very skeptical about how Severus could really love Hermione or how it was possible for Hermione to forgive him after doing something so terrible, but Hermione stayed patient and pressed on with the story after answering even more questions.

There was a short pause when Ginny had no questions and Hermione thought over the day that Severus had finally admitted his love for her. She saw Ginny's impatient expression and recounted how Severus had knocked on her door early in the morning and she had been furious with him still but wanted to be near him as well, and had only let him in because she was so shocked by his appearance and request to enter. She could tell as she said this that Ginny was on the edge of her seat, hanging on her every word. Even when she didn't try to make it sound dramatic or theatrical, Hermione realized how thrilling and romantic the whole thing sounded as she told about Severus falling on his knees and clinging to her hands as he cried and admitted the truth.

Ginny's eyes were wide as she listened, and Hermione knew that now she understood how it was possible to forgive Severus after his lying to her.

Hermione went on, telling about how she had been so undecided and told him to leave at first before giving in and letting herself fall into his waiting arms. She told of him picking her up and carrying her to the couch, where they sat, told her that Kreacher knew, told her about how they had sat and talked or stayed in silence for a while. She talked about their falling asleep, and during this part of the story Ginny's eyes were shining. Hermione knew that she was obviously overwhelmed by what she was hearing, and Hermione's tale wasn't finished being told yet. She then talked about how he hated when she bit her lip and about their first kiss after their reconciliation, and this was when Ginny covered her mouth with her hands and started giggling like a little girl. Hermione sat back and watched, waiting for her friend to get ahold of herself before continuing, though a smile touched her lips as she thought back over everything that had happened.

She recounted everything up until the day before and then took a deep breath and plunged into the tale of their visit to Saint Mungo's. Ginny wasn't in the least bit surprised over the news that there had been contagious diseases and things making their way around, as Ron and Harry _were_ her brother and her boyfriend and were stationed there, so they would have told her. Hermione told about their experience with the Malfoys and everything that Narcissa had said, and then she fell silent for a moment as she thought about what had happened when Harry had left them to find Ron. Ginny waited expectantly, so Hermione told her about visiting her parents, and again, mixed emotions made her chest hurt when she thought about what she had always dreamed of happening when her parents met her boyfriend versus how it had really been. She told about Harry and Ron's arrival and then about how Ron had indeed tried to win her heart again.

Ginny gasped when she heard that Ron had kissed Hermione, and then she frowned, looking upset with her brother. "In front of Snape?" she asked, looking incredulous.

Hermione nodded, feeling a grin tugging at her lips. "Yes."

"What did he do then?" she asked, referring to Severus' reaction.

"He glared daggers at Ron as soon as I pushed him away and he looked like he wanted to kill your brother in the most painful way possible."

Hermione was surprised when Ginny actually laughed. "And he would have deserved it! Snogging you like that! I'm having a word with him as soon as he gets back to the Burrow!"

Hermione laughed and told about the row that followed their kiss, and how she had sided with Severus, leading to her disarming Ron and his leaving. She recalled Harry's warning and giving him Ron's wand to return to him. And then she talked about Severus' announcement to them that he wasn't going to hide their relationship any longer because he didn't want another instance of what Ron had done happening. Hermione repeated Severus' words exactly as he'd said them, and Ginny burst out laughing. Hermione joined her, and it was several moments before the giggling subsided. Then she told of their coming back to the school and going to the headmistress office to report in their trip to the hospital and to give her the news that they were in love.

When all of the explanations were done and Ginny seemed completely out of questions, they sat in silence for a while. Then Ginny grinned at her with a look of awe on her face and said, "You realize how crazy it looks, you and him, together?"

Hermione smiled. "I do."

Ginny shook her head in a mixture of admiration and disbelief. "Well, at least he never liked you when you were in school."

Hermione laughed and nodded. "That would have been terrible!"

Ginny looked completely serious and said sagely, "He would have been extremely jealous of Viktor and then of Ron."

Hermione laughed even louder. "Imagine that, Severus jealous of Viktor! And of your brother?!"

Ginny laughed, too. "Well he was jealous when Ron kissed you, I'll bet."

But Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. Seeing the quizzical expression on her friend's face, she explained, "when Ron kissed me I was shocked and angry and upset and I tried to get away. And when I did get away I wanted to kill him. I was furious. I doubt Severus would be jealous of me behaving that way towards anyone."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense."

They fell into talking about boys and how terribly confusing they were at times, though Hermione didn't notice the way that Ginny's eyes shone with excitement and pleasure when it became obvious that Hermione could read Severus' behavior much better than Ginny could read Harry's. They stopped talking only when they looked at the clock and realized that it was time for lunch. Hurrying to the Great Hall together and free of anything in their hands, Ginny challenged Hermione to a race.

Hermione paused, biting her lip. She knew she shouldn't run in the halls; not only was it against the rules, but she was a professor and needed to set a good example. But if everyone was already at lunch and the two of them would be late . . .

Without telling Ginny that she had accepted the challenge, Hermione ran through the corridor, and the redhead trailed close behind. They raced through halls, down staircases, jumping the vanishing step on their way, and stopped in the entrance hall, panting. Hermione had won the race, and Ginny looked pleasantly surprised by this. "Good job, professor," she said, grinning, "looks like all those days spent grading papers in that classroom haven't left you as weak and unhealthy as I'd thought."

They laughed together one last time before entering the Great Hall as teacher and student rather than best friends. Hermione made it to the staff table and grinned down at Ginny, who returned the gesture and winked.

She turned and looked at Severus when he cleared his throat. He raised an eyebrow, asking where she had disappeared to. Smiling, she told him that she had enjoyed a bit of long overdue best-friend-girl-time. He rolled his eyes and smirked at this, but nonetheless his eyes melted once more when he saw how happy she seemed after talking to Ginny.

Severus glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as they ate and smirked once more; women would never cease to confuse and amaze him with their diverse range of personality. It seemed several people and their own personal traits, characteristics, and behavior were wrapped up in Hermione's one personality, something he doubted he would ever understand. But he was pleased by how she seemed so happy after spending time talking to another female and she had seemed more than pleased to see him, which lifted his own spirits.

He noticed several Slytherins giving him dark looks from their table and raised his eyebrows at them, smirking. When they continued to scowl, he glared at them until they looked away. He smirked once more as he wondered how many of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students even cared about the current turmoil between Slytherin and Gryffindor that had come about because the two teachers from those houses had decided they were in love.

Severus turned and looked at Hermione, though she was focusing on her conversation with Longbottom. There was a smile parting her lips and she seemed to be glowing with happiness. Severus allowed himself a moment to get lost in how beautiful she truly was and smirked; Rookwood was still on the loose and the current darkness of war was still fading into light, but everything seemed brighter and more beautiful. When Hermione was happy like this, Severus himself was happy because he never wanted her to be anything but well. He turned back to his food, wondering as he did so often what it was that the beautiful young woman in the seat beside his could see in him that was worth loving.

**So they've told! All right, I would love to know what you think of this chapter! Thank you all so much for reading my story and thanks again to all who had reviewed any of my chapters (or in select cases all of them)! Please review this one if you've got a second to spare. Much love! ~Taelr**


	21. The Chamber of Secrets

Severus hadn't been bothered by nightmares about Hermione going through a brutal death in the week that had passed since their visit to Saint Mungo's and the exposure of his love for her. He walked through the corridors, watching carefully for any rule-breaking students and muttering the incantations to stop any disillusionment charms or things being used. The only students still at the school tonight were all first years and the few unlucky souls whose parents or guardians hadn't deigned to sign their permission slips, leaving them in the school and not at Hogsmeade, where almost the entire student body was at the moment. Those who had stayed behind were all in their common rooms—or they were supposed to be, anyway—and those in Hogsmeade would be heading back in a few hours.

Severus stopped when he heard an almost inaudible footstep behind him. He turned around and was surprised to see Hermione standing there, completely visible. He raised his eyebrows and she smirked at him. "What are you doing walking the hallways at this hour, Miss Granger?" he asked, imbuing his accusatory professor's voice into his words.

She bit her lip and smiled, finally releasing it when she noticed his annoyed scowl. "I thought it would be a bit harder to sneak around behind you, _Professor_, but I guess not."

He shook his head and smirked at her, and she smiled. She had come to recognize that depending on his mood and the reason behind it, his smirks could be just as good as—and convey the same emotions as—a real smile. Scowling at her, though his glare was missing its usual ferocity, he said, "How I could be a spy for Dumbledore and a double agent against the most powerful dark wizard in the world and make it out alive but fail to notice that I'm being followed by a girl with not even half as much experience sneaking around as I have, I'll never know."

Hermione smirked back, looking satisfied. "I just know you; how you move, where you look when you're suspicious. It's been easy to get past your guard."

He frowned, but his glare and his scowl vanished. His eyes twinkled in the low light of the corridor, but Hermione could see that they were like dark, melted chocolate. She didn't know that he was thinking about the time they had apparated back from Saint Mungo's and shared an invisible embrace under a disillusionment charm. "Sneaking around has been something you've been uncannily terrible at since you were a student," he remarked, watching as she frowned at him.

He couldn't help but notice how much he liked it when she looked mad or frustrated like that, when she wasn't truly upset, just a bit irked. Had he been anyone else, the word _cute _or _adorable_ might have crossed his mind to describe her, but as he wasn't the kind of person to use those words or even think them, they did not. Instead, he allowed himself to enjoy admiring her beauty for a few seconds until her face cleared and she ruined the moment by stepping closer and saying, "Well you never actually caught Harry, Ron and I all those times we did."

He smirked down at her and closed the space between them but didn't touch her. Then he reached up, brushing a stray curl from out of her face. He looked confident and smug to her when he did this, though inside he was still rather unsure of himself. "Believe me, I was completely aware of every single time you and your renegade friends tried to slip out of your common room or make mischief; I simply hadn't the time to bother with the matter because I had more important things to do."

"Like stopping a dark wizard," Hermione supplied, causing him to smirk again.

"Indeed."

They walked back towards the teachers' lounge together, making their way slowly and comfortably through the halls and corridors of the dungeon. Lately, the lowest floor of the school—not including _the Chamber of Secrets_, of course—had become quite a familiar place to Hermione, and she had grown used to it, so much that she even liked it. They didn't walk arm in arm, but were satisfied by just each other's presence as they walked, Hermione laughingly remembering some of she and her two friends' more rebellious and risky escapades while Severus smirked.

Hermione talked and laughed quietly, keeping her voice down enough that it didn't echo off the walls, only because she didn't want to disturb—or catch the attention of—the Slytherin students who were in their common room, which the two teachers were passing the entrance to. They continued walking and Hermione lapsed into silence, allowing herself to enjoy being alone with Severus for a while.

They turned a corner and both of them stopped dead in their tracks. Hermione clamped a hand over her mouth in time to stop the gasp of surprise from leaving her lips and stared in disbelief; there was a man in front of them dressed in a dark cloak, pacing back and forth and muttering under his breath. It occurred to her that he didn't know the password, for which she was thankful, though she wondered how he had known where to look for the secret entrance to the teachers' lounge. He didn't see them standing at the end of the corridor, even when he turned and took several steps their way before changing direction again. One look at his face and Hermione knew who he was and why he was so desperate to get into the teachers' lounge.

Severus was only momentarily baffled and then acted quickly, allowing his instincts to take over. He placed a hand on Hermione's arm and took several quiet steps back, pulling her with him gently as they backed around the corner so that the pacing man was out of sight. Severus pulled out his wand and pointed it at her, opening his mouth to put a disillusionment charm on her for her own safety, but both of them froze when a voice from behind them rang out.

"Ah-ha!"

The two waited, paralyzed, until the voice said menacingly, "Turn 'round."

Hermione held her breath as she turned on the spot, Severus doing the same beside her. They found themselves facing a short, thin man who grinned at them, missing several of his front teeth. Hermione didn't recognize him, but Severus obviously did by the way that he tensed. There was silence for a moment. Severus had his wand in hand, but Hermione's was tucked in her robes and out of reach with the wizard pointing his wand at her. He looked at Severus but kept his wand directed towards Hermione's chest. "You make one wrong move and she dies," he threatened.

Severus stayed silent, so Hermione did as well.

The man grinned even wider, displaying holes in his gums where more teeth were missing, and said, "He said you'd never listen or back down if it was your own life at stake, but for her . . ." he paused, his eyes flicking to Hermione before he looked back to Severus and finished, "you'd do anything if it meant she would live . . . or would die quickly and painlessly, at least."

Hermione was trembling, and she hoped that the death eater couldn't see it.

"Now," he said, licking his lips as his eyes darted over Hermione and then back to Severus once more, "back 'round the corner you go."

Severus glanced at Hermione and dipped his chin, indicating that they were to obey the direction given them. She took another deep breath as they turned around and stepped back around the corner. Severus had a wand, yes, but if the death eater sent a spell directly at Hermione, especially now—as his wand was pressed against her shoulder—he would kill her before Severus could do anything to stop him.

Terror hadn't yet set in and Hermione felt rather numb with shock. She trembled in anticipation of what would happen to them, to her, but didn't feel afraid. Wondering at this revelation, she took a few more small steps forward at the death eater's prodding. Severus was right beside her. He was looking calm and collected on the outside, as always, even cold or uninterested, but on the inside he was panicking. He had already lost the first woman that he loved to one dark wizard and he would not let it happen again. However, at the moment he didn't see a way to stop it happening, especially as the death eater behind them took his wand. _Oh, how simply Excellent_. Now they would both die painful deaths, unless-

His thoughts were interrupted when the voice of the man pacing in front of the secret entrance to the teachers' lounge burst forth loudly. He had seen that the very two people he wanted to meet were actually not locked behind the unyielding and stubborn entrance after all and approached, looking quite pleased with himself. "Snape," he spat at Severus.

Hermione, still quite numb, was feeling even more reckless than the day she'd first gone to Severus' classroom. She glared savagely at the two death eaters, who were now circling them, one on each side as they walked slowly.

"Rookwood," Severus returned just as ferociously.

Hermione glanced sideways at Severus and then back at Rookwood, who had stopped in front of her. He lifted his wand, pressing it under her chin and forcing her to raise her head and look him in the eye. He raised his eyebrows, eyes roving over her with a distant hunger in them. Hermione was disgusted by how ugly his face was, twisted and grossly maimed, she could only guess from the dark mark's retribution. She stared right back when his eyes returned to her face, and their dislike of one another was mirrored in their two faces. "So," he said, keeping his wand pointed at Hermione but looking to Severus, "This is the whelp, is it? The one who's been in all the headlines with your name this past week? _Severus Snape; how he survived Nagini's attack. The miraculously-surviving potions master of Hogwarts finds love in a former student_," he quoted brutally, obviously enjoying that he could taunt the two.

Hermione kept her face impassive; she'd read all the articles about herself and Severus. Most of them were full of lies, especially those in _the Daily Prophet_, but Xenophelius Lovegood had interviewed them and published a truthful, much more realistic and honest article about their relationship in _the Quibbler_. She had already made faces at the names of the articles, swore under her breath—in spite of her usually having good manners—at some of the things particular articles said about her, and cursed the day that Rita Skeeter had decided to pursue a writing career.

Severus' face was a mask of unfeeling, cold hardness and it became apparent rather quickly that the failure to respond or react properly to his taunting by both of his prisoners irked Rookwood greatly. Clearing his throat, he started on a new subject. "Well, I've come to get my revenge, in case neither of you two guessed."

Severus and Hermione remained silent.

"However," he continued, "We can't have curses and screams and things echoing around down here; they'd attract unwanted attention. Now, I'd take you somewhere far away where no one would bother us, but that blasted McGonagall's put those enchantments against apparition on the damned school again and it took us long enough to get in here. So, we're going to stay in the school, but not in this particular level."

Hermione swallowed. Though she didn't want to believe it, she had the sudden inkling that Rookwood was taking them to the Chamber of Secrets. There of all places, no one would bother them or hear what was going on, and with the basilisk dead, there was nothing to fear. But could Rookwood speak parseltongue? If he could, then he'd take them all of the way into the actual chamber itself, she guessed. But if he could not, then they wouldn't make it inside. He seemed rather sure of himself, though, and Hermione was positive that he could in fact speak to snakes like Harry could. She thought briefly of the Room of Requirement, and then reminded herself that the death eaters didn't know where it was.

Sure enough, Severus and Hermione were poked and prodded by the two death eaters' wands and herded like animals to the bathroom where Moaning Myrtle lived. Or rather, Hermione thought dryly, where she had died. The bathroom was just her usual place of choice to haunt and mope around weeping and picking at the spots on her chin.

However, when they entered the bathroom, the ghost was nowhere to be found. Wishing for once that the whiny brat was actually around, Hermione sighed as they went towards the sinks. Sure enough, Rookwood could speak parseltongue. Or he knew enough to make strangled noises until something happened. A few strange hissing and rasping noises and they entered the tunnel. As Hermione had expected, they entered the actual Chamber of Secrets. She disliked seeing the huge skeleton of the dead basilisk, remembering how she and Ron had come down to kill one of Voldemort's horcruxes during the last battle.

Severus had been watching Hermione's face out of the corner of his eye. He didn't know whether to be awed or worried over her expression; she looked as if she wasn't really all that scared. In fact, by the glint in her eye, he thought she must be planning something daring and stupid. He tried to catch her eye, to convey the message that she really shouldn't try anything, no matter how reckless she felt, but she didn't seem to notice. Terror had seized Severus, and his chest felt as if it might explode, it hurt and pained him so.

Smiling triumphantly, Rookwood stopped them in the middle of the chamber and had them turn to face him. They weren't far from the dead basilisk, which he looked at with the face of a victor who is unashamed and proud. Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but if he noticed, he gave no sign.

Rookwood had his wand in hand and Severus' tucked in his robes. Hermione longed to reach for her own, but before she could think over some kind of plan for escape, Rookwood was talking again. He yelled a hex and pointed his wand at Severus, who flew several feet away and landed on the hard, smooth stone floor on his back. He rolled onto his side, hidden partially under his dark cloak and glaring up at Rookwood. "Get up," the latter spat at him.

Hermione swallowed and watched as Severus stood, still glaring ferociously at Rookwood. The enemy pointed his wand at Severus again, and Hermione longed to draw her own wand, but the second death eater was watching her with his wand pointed at her chest, waiting for her to move. "_Petrificus_ _Totallus_," Rookwood yelled, and Severus' arms and legs straightened and he started to fall backward, his body prone and paralyzed. Rookwood yelled some other spell that put Severus back standing straight and held him there because his own feet could not. "Now," he yelled, seeming to like the sound of his voice echoing off the walls of the chamber when he spoke, "You get to watch your precious witch die slowly and I get to enjoy torturing her before the merciful act of ending her life is necessary."

Hermione stiffened, and she saw Severus' eyes turn cold and black at Rookwood before he looked at her and they turned the darkest brown she'd seen yet. He was apologizing with his eyes, and she knew it, but she ignored it. This was not his fault. She would never blame him, no matter what pain she went through because he loved her. She remembered being tortured by Bellatrix LeStrange and flinched inwardly at the recollection of just how painful the cruciatus curse was. Nevertheless, she still felt a bit too reckless. "I have a name," she called to Rookwood, her sudden words causing the shorter death eater to jump in surprise.

Rookwood turned and walked up to her. Glancing at Severus from time to time out of the corner of his eye, the man reached up and ran his fingertips from Hermione's brow to her chin, along the side of her face. "Hmm," he mused, "no wonder he fell for you. Beautiful." Then he leaned closer and whispered, his breath hot and rancid on her face, "You do know that he never loved you?"

He leaned back, gauging her reaction. She gave none, though she was still trembling, as she had been earlier.

He leered at her, looking irked that she had given no response. He leaned in so close that his lips brushed her cheek and he whispered against her skin, causing chills and shivers of disgust to run down her spine. She did not flinch away from him, however, when he said, "Desire. Something someone in her teens would probably understand well? Lust. He never loved you. Never wanted you, not really. Do you understand?"

In spite of being shorter than him and feeling meek and very small and helpless, Hermione held her head high and kept her face impassive.

Rookwood was obviously angry that she gave no reaction and stepped back, pointing his wand and booming, "_Crucio_!"

Hermione could handle the pain on her feet only a few seconds before she fell to the ground. There were not words to describe the sheer agony that came when the cruciatus curse was used. This wasn't her first experience with it, but the pain was still even sharper and more excruciating than she had cared to remember.

Severus watched, unable to flinch, unable to cry out, unable to blink or look away as Hermione was writhing on the ground, screams of raw and utter pain leaving her and seeming to carve misery into his soul. This was it. He could do nothing. His mind was the only thing he was in control of anymore, and without a wand and the ability to move any part of his body, he was utterly helpless, forced to watch the woman he loved as she died.

Hermione screamed again, unable to stay strong and silent as she wished she could. The hot tears pouring down her cheeks weren't from the pain. After a certain amount, she was sure that pain no longer called tears. No, these tears were cried out of frustration with herself for not having complete control and staying silent during her torture. She curled into as tight a ball as possible, still screaming and crying, her chest heaving with sobs that were released as screams, but the pain continued and only seemed to steadily worsen.

After what seemed like an eternity of torture, the pain lessened and Hermione began to go numb. Darkness was closing in around the edges of her vision and red lights continuously burst before her eyes. She was too exhausted and weak even to cry out in pain anymore and just lay there, still squirming and writhing, but the pain continued to lesson as she started losing her grip on consciousness. She had the faintest idea that she would have to give in to the darkness and oblivion, and once she did it would be a blissful freedom from everything, but then the faces of Neville's parents floated before her eyes momentarily and she decided that she couldn't let her mind be taken over or ruined by the pain like them, not if she had a choice. She couldn't become like Neville's parents or her own.

Holding the flickering image of herself in a hospital bed at Saint Mungo's beside her parents' in her head, she used it as motivation. _Stay strong. Don't let the darkness take you. They need you to stay sane. Severus needs you. Mum and Dad need you. Neville needs you. Harry needs you. McGonagall is counting on you to be safe and protect the school. Elise needs you_.

At the thought of the little girl, who was so much like a slightly altered image of her own young self, Hermione found strength that hadn't been there before. It was when she pushed the darkness away for good that the pain came back in full. But now she welcomed it. Pain. It meant that she was still alive, still able to feel emotion and physical pain or relief. She was going to count on that pain to keep reminding her that she wasn't dead yet. She wouldn't let herself slip into wishing that death would just come. No, she had other people to think about.

Severus watched her struggle, though he was only aware of glimpses of it because he knew her well, but couldn't read her thoughts. Rookwood and his accomplice were completely unaware of Hermione's battle with herself and then her triumph against them, and Rookwood continued to torture her, his face twisted even more badly than before in a gruesome smirk as he watched her writhing in pain.

But she had reached the point she wanted to. No more tears fell. No more screams and sobs echoed around the chamber. She had found her strength and her control in remembering other people and that they needed her. She writhed, squirmed, cringed, trembled, even shook violently as she dealt with the agony of the curse, but she didn't cry out again.

Severus watched her in an agony of his own. He felt her triumph when she battled her own desire to just let go, but now he could see it; she was losing it. No matter how strong her resolve, her body was going to give out some time. There was no way, even with a brave, remarkably resilient mind and determination, that her physical self could last as long as the mental and emotional. He was proud of her for a fleeting moment because of her complete control as she lay in silence, going through misery and a living hell but not making a sound. But then he saw it coming; she was letting go. Not with her mind and her spirit, no, there she was still fighting, and hard. But she just couldn't handle it anymore.

Hermione took a shaky, shallow breath, her entire body shuddering at the effort as she struggled to breathe and face the pain at the same time. She found one last bit of strength and used it. She knew what was happening. This was the end. This was it. She was going to go and join Harry's parents and his god father and Lupin and Tonks, and Fred Weasley and Collin Creevey and everyone else they'd lost. She felt annoyed that this, after the war, was the way she would go, but also felt proud that she had lasted so long. Summoning all of her remaining strength, she raised her head and looked upon the man she loved one last time. Their eyes met and there were mutual apologies, hers for not being able to hold on longer and his for bringing this way of ending about. There was also one last look of deep love and adoration shared between them before Hermione could do it no longer and let her head fall back to the ground. The darkness was closing in again, but this time she welcomed it. Why not greet death as a friend? She had lived a full life, hadn't she?

Between her adventures with Harry and Ron, her graduating school and starting out on her own as a teacher, falling in love with Severus and becoming a mentor and example to her students, she felt accomplished enough to let life go. Sure, she would have loved a few more years to live her life a bit longer and do more things worth remembering, but if helping to defeat the greatest dark wizard of all time wasn't something worth being remembered for, she didn't know what was. In spite of the still-biting pain seeming to course like fire burning through her veins, she smiled faintly and gave in. Before the darkness came, there was an explosion of light above her and the pain was gone and someone was yelling, but then there was nothing but blackness and peaceful bliss.

Severus watched her giving up. She needed to. She should have done this so long ago, and not put herself through all the suffering that wasn't necessary. He was still unable to move. She smiled weakly and he saw it in her eyes, though they weren't turned towards him; she was dying. He turned his eyes and looked in shock and surprise when someone new entered the chamber. A familiar face, set on a thin neck and wide shoulders that were on a tall, slender body, showed from under white-blonde hair and unnaturally pale skin. The smirk that usually graced Draco Malfoy's face wasn't present, however. Instead, he was grimacing as he yelled, paralyzing the shorter death eater with the same spell that held Severus and disarming Rookwood in almost the same moment.

Rookwood turned on Draco, stepping backwards and almost tripping over Hermione's body as he backed away, wandless and unarmed. Then he remembered Severus' wand and pulled it from his robes, yelling a curse at Draco. But the pale young man was ready, and he was determined not to lose. Severus stood, still frozen in place and being held by Rookwood's spell, unable to move or assist his former student as a duel formed and took place before him, bright lights and spells flying over Hermione's limp, lifeless form as hexes and curses were yelled and screamed from one side of the room or the other, bouncing off the walls and rebounding as several echoes, until the chamber sounded as if it held a full-blown war between two armies of wizards rather than just a duel between two men, one old and the other young.

Draco was looking better than he had in years, not depressed or miserable and no longer a forced servant of a threatening dark lord, but rather a young man with a mission to, for once in his life, do something for those who were on the good side. Rookwood was slowly backing towards the basilisk skeleton, though he didn't seem to be aware of what was behind him. He stepped on a fang that was lying on the floor and it rolled under his foot, and he stumbled backwards. Draco screamed, "_Expelliarmus_!" and Severus' wand flew through the air towards him. Draco turned his wand to Severus and muttered the counter charm against the petrifying spell, but there was really no need; Rookwood stumbled a few more steps backwards and his foot caught on the lower jaw of the basilisk, and he toppled over backward, landing on his back with his shoulders hitting hard across the line of giant fangs still attached to the snake's jawbone.

The venom was still in the fangs, and Rookwood didn't have long to live now that his shoulders had been gashed by the large teeth, and he knew it. He looked around at them all, wide-eyed and incredulous. "How," he spluttered, but already his eyes were rolling and his veins were burning. Before he could say more, his head fell back and lolled to the side. He was dead.

Severus didn't care to retrieve his wand, and as soon as he was free and could move he fell to his knees at the sudden need to carry his own weight. He scrambled on all fours to where Hermione lay, not caring about anything but her. He knelt by her side, cupping her small, delicate face in his large hands. "Hermione, please," he gasped, his chest already beginning to ache with the agony and pain as it had when he knew that Lily was dead. He lifted her form, cradling her in his arms and blinking through tears at her pale face. She was his everything. She had saved him from a life of misery. She had made life worth living. She had made him believe that he could be forgiven and that his past didn't define who he was in the present. She had made him feel loved as he never had before, not even by Lily, as she hadn't been _in love_ with him. Hermione had made him believe that it was all right to let Lily rest, to let her go, and move on. She had made him believe that he could love again. She had showed him how beautiful the little things in life could be if you looked at them with the right perspective.

Draco walked past his old professor and head of his house, picking up the man's wand and walking back to him to return it. He held it out, but Severus didn't look up. Swallowing, Draco set the wand on the floor beside its master and watched as Severus laid her back on the floor, looking into her face as tears streamed silently down his face. Draco stared up at Severus in amazement; never had he known the hard potions master to show emotion that was anything but angry or cruel. And now . . . now he was . . . crying?

Draco looked down and Hermione and moved to her other side, across from Severus. He looked at Severus' face for his consent, but the older man didn't even acknowledge that the younger was there. For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy had done something truly good, and for the first time in his life, he didn't mind that no one was recognizing him for it or praising him. He knelt at Hermione's other side than Severus and he too looked down into her face. He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat as he looked at her face. For the first time, he actually thought she was beautiful. Not the kind of physical beauty that he had looked for in girls when he was in school, no, there was a stronger, more definite, more admirable beauty that seemed to emanate from her, changing the atmosphere. He did think her face beautiful, but he knew that she did indeed belong in Gryffindor; her heart was nothing but brave and loyal and determined. And she had died that way, not accepting defeat until she could fight no longer.

Draco looked down at her still, pale face. It was strange, to see Hermione Granger facing him and not giving him a glare or a smirk or a dark look or a scowl. Her face was smooth, free of lines that came with worry or pleasure, and free of emotion. Even with the lack of emotion, she looked rather peaceful, he thought, as her lips had smoothed from their faint smile that she had died with. Draco started in surprise when Severus suddenly let go of Hermione and threw himself in the opposite direction, stumbling around like a drunk man but letting out the most pained, miserable, agony-filled sobs and moans that Draco had ever heard. He stared, wide-eyed, and watched as the dark-looking man pulled at his hair and his clothes, stumbling around with his hands on his knees to support himself as he was doubled over in pain that went beyond the physical. He stumbled and staggered, having left his wand on the floor beside Hermione, and ran his hands over his face, straightening momentarily before he fell to the floor and sat, crying. Tears streamed freely down his face and his shoulders slumped as his body was racked with sobs.

Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing at all. He had failed the woman he loved yet again. She was gone. Never again would she bite her lip and smile at him when he glared at her. Never again would she laugh at something he said. Never again would she look into his eyes with that everlasting love and patience of hers. Never again. He would never feel her warm lips pressed to his again, never hear her lovely laugh or her soft voice, ever again. He would never again hear her say his name, never feel the fear and the thrill spreading through him when she touched him, never be able to look her in the eyes again and tell her that he loved her.

Draco swallowed yet another lump in his throat when he tore his eyes from the lamenting man a few paces away and looked down at Hermione again. He found himself overcome by his own emotions. No, he'd never been fond of the girl, but she had helped to kill Voldemort, had been a good example in school, had come back and become a teacher. She had saved Draco's life. And much as he disliked the man sometimes, she had saved Severus, and that meant the most to Draco. Also, even though she had been hard on him, Harry and Ron had been worse and she had never been as savage as either of them. After all of her achievements, it just seemed such a shame for her to die here, in the school, after the war, when things were supposed to be safer. Draco let out a bark-like laugh that came out as more of a gasp and realized that he had tears pooling in his own eyes.

No, he rather loathed Hermione Granger, and he knew she had felt the same for him. But for her to go like this, it just . . . wasn't fair. It wasn't right. And looking at the nostalgic, mournful man across the chamber, Draco knew that they had really shared love. Real love. Genuine, sincere, honest love. The kind that couldn't be faked or imitated, the kind that couldn't be forced. Draco knew that Severus had loved Harry's mum, but it was obvious that because she had never returned his feelings, he hadn't felt as strongly for her as he had for Hermione. Losing Hermione, Severus had lost half—if not more—of himself. And Draco knew it.

Draco looked down at Hermione. He didn't know what he was doing, but he bent closer to her face, and blinked to try and clear his blurry vision. "I- I don't know if you can hear me, Granger," he said, stammering and surprised that he was talking to a dead person. "But," he went on, "I want to say thank you. Potter and Weasley saved my mother, and you saved me. Even mother's grateful for that. She'd never say it . . . not because she isn't thankful . . . just, you're a- a mudblood, see, and sh- she can't bring herself to let go of her pride. B- but I can. I am. Now. I'm sorry for everything I did. I know most of it wasn't actually done to you in particular, but I am sorry. And I want to say thanks . . . for everything. You saved my family from Voldemort. Thanks."

He fell silent, still pondering why he had felt the need to apologize for everything, to her. Especially when it wasn't her he'd done most of the terrible things to. But it had felt necessary, and she was so good, so pure, died so brave and honest and still loyal and without having turned her back on what was right, it had just felt right to apologize to her, as if there was some kind of redemptive power in the deed. But only if the words were said to her. No one else seemed worthy.

Draco looked up when a dark form came into view in the corner of his eye. Severus was standing over him. He knelt and put his wand in his robes. Then he nodded tersely in the direction of the shorter death eater. "Bring him."

And those were the only words spoken between them, though Severus' eyes thanked Draco, both for coming and fighting his former allies and for what he had said to Hermione. Draco nodded and he used a charm to float the paralyzed death eater, picking up his wand and stowing it in his own robes. Severus picked up Hermione's limp, crumpled form and carried her in front of Draco and the death eater, and they left the Chamber of Secrets. They went to McGonagall's office, where she was sitting behind her desk looking over papers when they entered without knocking. Severus refused to let go of Hermione for the longest time, but finally consented to take her to the hospital wing and to Madam Pomfrey.

He laid her on a hospital bed and went to wake the school healer. She came bustling out as soon as she heard and went to look at Hermione, but Severus was in pain whether he looked at her or not. Thinking that he might lose his mind or collapse from the pain in his chest if he looked at her again, he left the hospital wing after a quick explanation to the healer and went back to the headmistress' office, where things were then sorted out and explained.

Draco explained how he had come about turning up at the school and in the Chamber of Secrets, Severus explained everything before that, and bit by bit things were pieced together. McGonagall ruled that they could contact Kingsley and Harry in the morning and until then use a strong sleeping potion to keep the remaining enemy under control. Severus left and returned with the potion, which they forced down the death eater's throat. He passed out soon enough and then it was back to talking. Severus and Draco had only just risen from their seats to leave for their rooms for the night when a silver patronus came through the door and stopped in the middle of the room, speaking in Madam Pomfrey's voice.

**Thank you all again for reading. I love you all! Please, please, please review if you have a moment; it means the world to me. Thanks! Tell me how you liked it? Loved it? Hated it? Love me for it? Hate me? I would understand both! haha. But thanks again for reading and to all of you who have reviewed. This is NOT the end of the story, so please don't give up on it and stop reading. I promise, there is more and it doesn't end here. Thanks again! Much love to every single one of you! ~Taelr**


	22. Professor Malfoy

Hermione opened her eyes, blinking to clear her vision. She focused on the room and realized she was in her own rooms in the teachers' quarters. The bedroom looked familiar and the orbs on the ceiling were glowing dimly, brightening the room with just enough firelight-colored glow to see.

Hermione's attention was taken from the bedroom's features when she felt something lightly squeeze her hand. She looked down and saw that her hand was held in a larger, paler one. She caught sight of the black cloak that covered the wrist of whoever held her hand, and her eyes followed the dark fabric up, along the arm of the person. They led her to be looking into the face of the man she'd feared she would never see again. He wasn't looking at her, but had his pale face turned downward and his dark eyes unfocused. He looked deep in thought, lost in his musing and unaware of his surroundings.

There were circles under his eyes, darker than usual and presumably from worry or lack of sleep. There was an open potions book in his lap, and she watched as he shifted in his seat, turning his eyes to it. When he shifted his position in his chair beside the bed he squeezed her hand lightly again, probably without meaning to. His eyes followed the lines of words, but she could see in them that he wasn't seeing the words at all or taking in their meaning. He seemed unable to do such a thing.

Hermione wondered, was she dead? Was this heaven or some kind of afterlife? Was Severus dead? Were they both ghosts? If they were, then would they be bound to Hogwarts, or could they come and go as they pleased?

She watched Severus as she thought, and as soon as she focused on his face again all of her thoughts and ponderings settled on the breeze. She found herself admiring his face, the very same face she had hated and been disgusted by at times in the past. His pale skin seemed to glow in the low light, just as it had so many months before when she'd cared for him while he was suffering from the dark mark and its pain. His hooked nose didn't seem half as ugly and bent as it had when she was a student. His long hair looked sleek and clean, and it wasn't tangled or greasy. His eyes were dark, but they weren't black. Rather, they were the melted chocolate color that had always transfixed her and made her worries vanish and disappear because those eyes were so wonderful to look at.

The long fingers of his free hand were holding the potions book on his knee, and the fingers on his other hand were wrapped around her hand gently. She found his touch comforting and almost felt as if there was peace and healing spreading through her from the hand that he was touching. His grip on her hand tightened suddenly as he closed the book with a _thump_ and dropped it onto the floor beside his chair. In spite of his obviously being upset and his apparent desire to throw the book across the room for some reason, he did all of these things rather quietly. As soon as he realized he was holding her hand tighter his eyes turned to her hand and he loosened his grip. He started to let go and pull his hand away, and Hermione felt as she had the day he came to her rooms to confess his love for her and admit that he had lied; if she let go of him now, he might be gone and never be hers again.

It didn't take as much effort as she expected, and she bit her lip, grabbing his hand to keep him from drawing it away. As soon as she moved he froze, and she laced her fingers through his. He set his hand on the edge of the bed along with hers, squeezing hers lightly, but his eyes weren't on their hands anymore. She looked up into his face, and he was looking back.

They stared at each other in silence for a few moments.

Severus looked down at her. There were no words to express how relieved he was to see her brown eyes staring back at him, bright and full of questions. And she was biting her lip. He said nothing about this, but did raise an eyebrow and smirk at her.

Rather than asking what had happened after she died—if that was what had happened—she stopped biting her lip when he raised his eyebrow and raised her own, asking, "What are you doing in my rooms?"

Of all the questions she could have asked first, this was not what Severus expected. He rolled his eyes. "Minerva decided—against Pomfrey's arguing, and only because of Albus' insisting—that I should be your caretaker and nurse you back to health."

Hermione processed this information. So she wasn't dead then. And now their positions had been switched; once upon a time it was she who sat by the bedside and tended carefully to the weak person in the bed. "Nurse me back," she mumbled, looking away from his face before jerking her head around to face him and exclaiming, "But, what about classes? What day is it?"

Severus rolled his eyes again and then smirked down at her. "Of all the things you could be concerned about, you worry over _classes_?" he asked, his amusement thick in his voice.

She waited impatiently for him to answer her questions.

Seeing this, he said, "Today is Sunday."

She stared into space for a moment and then looked back to him again. "But then did everything happen yesterday?"

He raised his eyebrows, silently asking whether she knew the answer to her own question.

Her mouth opened in surprise. "It's been a week," she said matter-of-factly.

He nodded. Before she could ask about classes, he supplied generously, "Minerva has taken over transfiguration until you recover and are able to teach again. And while I am caring for you, a rather . . . unexpected . . . someone has taken over defense against the dark arts so that Slughorn is able to teach potions in my place."

Hermione nodded, though she didn't know who the new defense against the dark arts teacher was. Professor Slughorn had been teaching that class, but he had taught potions at Hogwarts in the past and Hermione wasn't surprised that he had taken the chance to go back for just a bit. "Who's taken over for Slughorn?"

Severus smirked down at her and said, "Malfoy," without any apparent interest in the subject.

Hermione stared at him. "Draco?"

He nodded, obviously amused by her stunned reaction.

"When did he get here? When did he leave Saint Mungo's? Merlin, what's Minerva thinking, letting him teach?!"

Severus smirked at her once more. He explained that it was Draco who had saved them the night they were in the Chamber of Secrets and told her everything that had happened there. She listened with rapt attention, eyes wide as the story unfolded.

Severus had taken her to the hospital ward in the school and to Madam Pomfrey, leaving her there to go back to the headmistress' office. He and Draco had been on their way to the door of McGonagall's office to leave for their rooms when Pomfrey's patronus flew through the door and announced that Hermione was, in fact, alive, though only just barely. The witch had been completely flabbergasted by the fact that Hermione had survived. The three people in the office had then quite literally run up to the hospital ward and stood around Hermione's bed.

Severus recalled feeling more than panicked as he hurried with the other two; if Hermione was alive, then was she going to recover? And if she had died and it was a mistake, he didn't think he could bear to see her like that after so much hope had coursed through him in such a short time.

Draco had come back to Hogwarts as soon as he was released from the hospital because he wanted, against his mother's desires, to come and thank Hermione for saving his life. He also wanted to stand in front of the school—this was also something his mother objected to—and tell all of them there just how sorry he was that he had ever been involved with the dark lord and that he could never give back the people who were killed because of the things that he did, but that he could only give them his most sincere apology. He had been on his way down to the teachers' lounge after stopping in the headmistress' office and asking where he ought to stay the night and apologizing to her. That was when he passed Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and decided he had felt like being nice and stepping inside to say hello.

He had taken one look at the open tunnel to the Chamber of Secrets and known what it was and that whoever was down there hadn't told McGonagall. Suspecting that it was a couple of disobedient students, he had gone down with his wand drawn and under a disillusionment charm. The entrance to the chamber itself had also been open and waiting, and he'd slipped inside as quietly as possible. He found Severus and Hermione and of course he recognized Rookwood and his accomplice. He'd known what was happening immediately and stopped using the disillusionment charm, petrifying the shorter death eater and disarming Rookwood.

Severus had already explained what happened after that, including the things Draco had said, even though he knew that the young man probably wouldn't have wanted them repeated. When she heard what the boy she'd once considered an enemy had said to her supposedly dead body, there were tears in her eyes. "I need to thank him," she said.

Severus smirked and said, "I'm sure that there will be a long line of people waiting to see you once the news gets out that you're conscious."

Then the story went on. After they had gotten to the hospital ward and found Hermione alive, Severus had argued that she would be more comfortable in her own quarters than in the hospital ward if she was going to recover, and had suggested getting someone to take care of her there. He had never even thought to volunteer himself, but Minerva had agreed that Hermione would want to be in her own rooms and they had all gone back to her office to talk once Hermione was in a more stable state. Then, to all of their surprise, the portrait of Dumbledore had told Severus that he was going to take care of her. He hadn't even said a word about it to McGonagall or asked Severus if that was what the potion master would be comfortable doing, and had given It as an order. Severus hadn't argued, and there had ensued a long quarrel between the headmistress and the healer over whether Hermione should stay in the hospital ward or not, and then another argument between the headmistress and Dumbledore over who was in charge and whether Severus should look after Hermione.

Kingsley had come and taken the remaining death eater to Azkaban after getting a full report from Draco and Severus about what had happened. The Minister had looked at Draco a bit differently after hearing his story and what he had done, and there was some surprised—but pleased—respect in his eyes.

McGonagall had said that she would teach in Hermione's place until she was well and asked Slughorn the following day if he would teach potions. She had planned on asking another old friend to come and teach defense against the dark arts, and Draco had offered to take care of it in the two days before the friend was to arrive. Minerva had agreed, not even worried that something would go wrong, and had checked up on his classes regularly.

She had been astounded by this new person she was seeing; this was not the Draco Malfoy who had grown up coming to Hogwarts or the one who had tried and failed to kill Dumbledore. This wasn't a boy, but a man. And this man had his own new set of standards that he was living up to. His classes went well, and he was exceptionally patient with his students and good at teaching them. He hadn't even gotten upset or angry when someone talked loudly on their way out of class about his past wrongdoings.

It was Minerva who asked if he would keep teaching the class until Hermione was well and Slughorn could take over again. Draco had been hesitant to accept, explaining that his mother wanted him home and that he didn't feel in the least bit worthy of taking over the position of defense against the dark arts teacher, as it had been taken by so many great witches and wizards before him. (He had remarked here to the headmistress that the 'great witches and wizards' didn't include Umbridge)

He had eventually accepted though, at her insistence. Hermione was pleased to find that he hadn't asked for the temporary job, but been asked, begged even, to take it. It did sound as if he _had_ changed and wasn't the same Draco she had known.

When the tale was done being told and Hermione's questions had been answered, there was silence for a while. Hermione glanced at the clock. It was very early in the morning. "It's early," she commented.

Severus nodded. His eyes hadn't left her face since he'd found that she was conscious.

"Why weren't you sleeping?" she asked.

He smirked. "I couldn't."

"And why not?"

He sighed and looked down at her. "I thought I'd lost you. For sure. And I keep . . . reliving it all."

Hermione blinked and squirmed in bed. He looked at her strangely. "Is something the matter?"

"Can you prop me up against my pillows?" she asked.

He did as she asked, and then sat back in his chair when he had finished. She felt better, sitting up. She turned and looked at him after a moment. "I'm sorry."

He blinked in surprise, still looking at her face. "What?"

She smiled, but it was a sad smile. "I'm sorry."

"And what could you possibly be sorry for?" he asked.

She looked down and then back up again. "It's my fault that-"

"No." He stopped her from saying more. "If anyone is to blame for what happened a week ago, it is myself. Not you. It was never you."

Hermione sighed, knowing that it was no point to argue with him, and stayed silent. After a while she asked, "If Rookwood's plan had actually been finished, and we'd both been killed . . . what . . . what would your greatest regret be?"

He was quiet for a moment, looking at her for a long time before blinking and saying, "That . . . is an interesting question."

Hermione frowned and squirmed where she sat until she was facing him more. "You aren't going to tell me?"

Now he frowned as well, though it wasn't from agitation. He seemed thoughtful and disappointed in himself rather than her. "No. But not for the reasons you assume. I would tell you anything you asked, answer any question, but I can only do that truthfully if I have an answer. I don't believe I know what I would regret most. I have done many terrible things in my life worth regretting," he mused, still watching her face.

"Stop," she said, looking irked.

He raised his eyebrows. "What was it that I did to make you upset?"

She bit her lip and then looked him in the eye, taking his one hand in both of hers. "You were thinking over all the things worth regretting."

He smirked at her. "Is that not what you asked me to do?"

She glared at him, though it wasn't genuine. "I asked you to answer a question, not to mull over every little thing you've ever done wrong."

He continued to smirk at her, and she blew a stray curl out of her face and rolled her eyes at him. He let his gaze drop to their hands, where she was still clinging to his tightly. Then his eyes returned to hers and he turned her own question on her. "If we had _died_," the last word came out softly, "what is it that you would regret most?"

Hermione bit her lip, thinking. She ignored his scowl that told her how much he disliked that she was "abusing" her lips again. She thought for only a moment before she stopped biting her lip and said, "I never made you smile."

He blinked in surprise. "What did you say?"

Hermione smiled at him gloomily. "I never made you smile. I would regret that most."

He blinked again and raised his eyebrows. "Out of the many things that you could regret about your life, you think you would regret _failing to make me smile_ the most?" He sounded incredulous.

Hermione smiled, and it was a more pleased smile now. She said firmly, "No. I don't think that's what I would regret, I know it is. I did regret it. I thought I was dying, you know."

The matter-of-fact way she said it made the muscles in his neck twitch as he visibly clenched his jaw and unclenched it. She spoke so easily about her own death, as if it was all so much fun they had shared together. He shook his head at her and asked, "Why would you regret that more than loving me?"

Hermione laughed, but it was short and disbelieving. "What? No. Severus," she let go of his hand with one of her own and placed it on his cheek, as he was sitting close enough to reach, "I never regretted loving you. Never."

He frowned. "Not even when you were lying on the ground, too weak to express your pain by crying out and shaking because you didn't have the strength to twitch and twist to try and dispel the pain? Not even when you knew you were about to die? Not even when you knew that no matter how determined you were or loyal or good or strong, you would still die eventually? Not even when the world was going dark and the last face you saw was that of the man torturing you?"

His chest was heaving slightly with emotion. Hermione rubbed her thumb gently on his cheek. "Not even then," she whispered. His eyes had roamed the room as he talked, but they flicked back to her face when she spoke.

"You should have regretted it," he said sharply.

Hermione didn't flinch at his words. "I don't," she said simply. "And that's the end of it."

His face cleared, but only for his brow to crease once more as he asked, "Why would you regret that I hadn't _smiled_, when you could regret anything else. Surely it's not that important to you?"

Hermione smiled. "Of course it's that important to me. I wouldn't have regretted it as I did if it wasn't. And there are other things that might seem more important, but I would regret not making you smile more than those."

He shook his head at her again. Then, much to her amusement, he tried to smile. Of course, as it wasn't real, it was twisted and fake and looked rather gruesome.

"Stop," she said, laughing and gently pushing on his cheek to try and get him to obey.

Instead, he pulled his hand from her grasp and took the hand from his cheek in his own. She stopped fighting him and watched to see what he was doing. He lifted it and pressed his lips against the palm, closing her hand and completely enveloping it in both of his. She smiled lightly, biting her lip again. He scowled at her, not at all pleased with what she was doing. She shook her head lightly and continued to bite her lip just to annoy him. He rolled his eyes at her.

She had died. He had lost her. And then he had gotten a second chance. He wasn't going to mess things up this time. He had decided that, no matter how unsure and nervous he felt, he wasn't going to hold back based on his own fear. He would show her how much she meant to him.

She stopped biting her lip and smiled at him. Then her smile faded, and he watched her face, wondering what she was thinking. "Severus," she said after a while.

He had looked back down at her hand again and returned his gaze to her face so that they were looking into each other's eyes. "Hmm?"

"I don't feel so weak . . . do you think . . . I could try to walk?"

He sighed, smirking at her, and in response he put the hand of hers that he was holding on his shoulder and let it go, reaching for the other and putting it on his other shoulder. "Madam Pomfrey will kill me if she finds out about this," he said as he moved forward off of his chair and closer to the bed. He put his hands on her waist as she wriggled to the bedside and slipped off the edge and onto her bare feet.

She held onto his shoulders and he onto her waist, and after a moment or two she stood on her own, steadying herself by holding on to him. He walked backwards and she followed him, taking slow, small steps, faltering and stumbling here and there, but always he caught her. They walked a small circle around the bedroom floor and then he took her back towards the bed. Halfway there she stumbled and fell against him, but didn't move away. He smirked when she stood on her toes and locked her arms around his neck to hold herself up, still leaning against him. He let go off her waist and instead wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. The last time she'd been in his arms he was carrying her to the hospital ward, sure that she was dead and gone forever.

Hermione pressed her face into his chest and breathed in his scent, letting herself lean completely on him and closing her eyes, smiling into the fabric of his shirt. He let his chin rest on the top of her head and buried his nose in her hair, closing his eyes as well. They stood for a few precious moments like that, silent, lost in a world that only they shared, together. Hermione bit her lip, though he couldn't see it. Then she said, "I love you," into his shirt.

Her words were muffled by the fabric, but he heard. Those words he had thought only a week before that he would never hear from her lips again. He leaned away from her, still holding her up but not pressed against her any longer, and said, "You shouldn't."

She rolled her eyes and looked away. "I disagree," she said, looking back and staring into his eyes.

He smirked. "Back to bed with you; you've been sedentary for a week. I don't think it would be wise for you to go waltzing around after not moving at all for so long."

Hermione rolled her eyes again and tossed her head so her hair fell away over her shoulders and wasn't in her face anymore. At his words, she asked, "Did you ever go to a dance when you were a student here?"

He raised his eyebrows at her. "I believe you already know the answer to that."

She pouted, not liking that he hadn't really answered her question, and decided to use his often-given answer for statements about himself. "Do I?" she asked, eyes glinting.

He smirked as he leaned down and picked her up in his arms. He turned to face the bed and said, "Perhaps."

She repeated her question, "Did you ever go to a dance or a ball or something, though?"

He set her down on the bed and sighed when she refused to take her arms from around his neck. She held on to his shoulders and he took her hands from him one at a time, sitting back down in his chair. She gazed at him until he said, "I never went to a dance. There was a yule ball here when I was in school because of the Triwizard Tournament."

"Why didn't you go?" she asked.

He smirked. "I had only one girl I was willing to go with, and if she wasn't going with me then I was not going at all. Naturally, she was asked first by another boy, one who she actually liked in that way."

Hermione bit her lip. She knew he was talking about Harry's mum. "Lily," she said quietly.

"Yes, Lily," he said after a moment.

"A Gryffindor," Hermione said.

"A Gryffindor," he agreed.

"And a mudblood, like me," Hermione said.

Severus stiffened at the word. "No."

Hermione tilted her head to the side and looked at him quizzically. "No?"

Severus smirked. "She was a muggleborn. Like you."

"Like I said," Hermione nodded, "A mud-"

"No," he said again. Hermione waited, and he sighed. "I don't much care for the word. No wizard—pureblood, muggleborn, or half blood—is better than the other because of their birth." He looked away and Hermione watched his expression when he added, "Children don't have the privilege of choosing their parents."

Hermione looked at him in silence. Then her voice dropped and she asked softly, "What were they like?"

Severus' head jerked back and he looked at her. His eyes were momentarily dark, cold black again, but then they melted into brown once more. "My mother and father," he said, letting out his breath slowly, "were perhaps not the people I would have chosen if I'd had a choice."

Hermione waited in silence.

"My mother was a witch, as you know," he raised his eyebrows, and Hermione knew that he was aware of Harry's temporary possession of his old potions book and of her research on "The Half Blood Prince" that had led her to his mother's name. "She married a muggle man and didn't tell him until after they were wed that she had magical abilities. He hated magic and anything to do with it. My mother didn't dare tell him the truth when he asked whether she would pass on her abilities if they had children.

"He was a drunk, at least when I was growing up. He hated me as soon as he realized that I could do things like my mother could. He was abusive, cold, hard, never sober, and always short with us, my mother and me. She told me about a great wizarding school called Hogwarts, and from that moment on it was all I looked forward to. When my eleventh birthday came around I was so afraid that I wouldn't get the acceptance letter that I almost didn't get up in the morning."

"But you got it," Hermione said quietly.

He nodded. "I met Lily before then. I knew she was a witch, and we became friends before our letters came. After our first year, Hogwarts was all I had to look forward to. I could never wait to come back. It was my escape, the only time I could get away from home for very long. And my father hated magic, so I was not allowed to use it in the house or whenever he was around."

Hermione remembered what Harry had told her about Severus' memories, between the last one's he'd given and the ones Harry had seen by accident in the pensieve in his office one day after they practiced legilimency together. Severus had been bullied and abused at Hogwarts as well, but it was nothing compared to his home life.

"One year I came home from school and it was Lily's parents who brought be back because my own didn't show. I got to the house and found him, drunk, furious, yelling as always. She was gone." He stopped, staring dully into the distance.

Hermione felt a lump growing in her throat. His mother had been gone when he came home?

Severus took another deep breath and went on, "It was _him_. He did it. Killed her in his anger one day while I was gone. No one even sent me a letter to tell me or bring me home from school when it happened. She'd been gone for months when I made it home and found out." There was a pause, and then he said, unclenching his jaw, "I hated that man until the day he died."

"You carry his name," Hermione said quietly. "Why, if you hated him?"

He grimaced. "My mother gave it to me. I would have changed it, but didn't feel that I had the right to undo anything she had done. But I hated him. I hated his name. Everything about him." He looked back to Hermione. "I called myself the Half Blood Prince for a reason."

Hermione watched his face. Many conflicting emotions played across his features. He suddenly looked up at her and asked, "Doesn't it bother you?"

Hermione was abashed. "Wh- what?"

"Does it bother you, talking about Lily?"

"Lily?" Hermione looked at him and shook her head.

He looked at her strangely. "You ask about her freely, so I thought as much. It just seems as if you would feel . . ." he trailed off for lack of the proper word.

Hermione gave a small, crooked smile. "You thought I would be jealous, or feel awkward or strange, talking about her. Because you loved her first?"

Severus watched her face, but she didn't look upset. "That is what I assumed, yes."

Hermione nodded but said, "You were wrong. I respect her. And you. I don't feel strange talking about her."

Severus studied her expression and nodded. "You're so like her in some ways," he remarked quietly after a moment.

This surprised Hermione. "I'm honored that you think so."

He smirked and raised his eyebrows. Hermione opened her mouth to say more but closed it when she looked at the clock. He turned to look as well. He shook his head before she even asked. "No."

"But, I want to go to breakfast!" she insisted, pouting.

"You practically carried me up the stairs to the Great Hall once, and I could carry you but I think it's best you stay and eat here until you can walk on your own," he said calmly.

She frowned at him. But then it faded.

He leaned forward and she started edging towards the side of the bed, hoping he wouldn't notice. But as he was watching her, he saw what she was doing before she started doing it. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and he was actually looking at the clock rather than her, so she started to slip off the edge of the bed and-

Severus put his hand on her arm to stop her. His face was stern but his eyes were melted still and glinting with some sort of emotion. Hermione would have called it _mischief_ had she not been convinced that Severus wasn't one who could be labeled as _mischievous_. "Please, stay in bed."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue when the door to the rooms opened and the headmistress appeared a moment later, pointing her wand at a tray of food that floated beside her. She saw Hermione and brightened immediately. "How do you feel?" she asked.

Hermione smiled. "Quite well, thanks."

Minerva nodded and set the tray on the bedside table, not noticing when Hermione scooted back over to where she belonged, on the middle of the mattress. The headmistress duplicated the tray and the food on it so there were meals for both of the people in the room with her, and then she turned on the man sitting in the chair beside the bed. "Severus," she scolded, "You were told to notify us as soon as she woke! How long has she been conscious?"

Severus replied, but Hermione wasn't listening. She moved along the top of her sheets to the edge of the bed, slipping to the floor behind the headmistress and keeping her feet, feeling like a toddler as she tottered across the floor on tiptoe towards the bathroom door. Severus was listening to Minerva and answering her, but his eyes followed Hermione's progress across the room. She reached the bathroom without falling and closed the door behind her.

Out in the bedroom, Minerva was still scolding Severus. "Has she been out of bed already?" she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"Of course not," Severus drawled. "You were quite clear about that; she is to stay in bed until Madam Pomfrey has decided she's well enough to leave."

The headmistress had leaned forward threateningly, and now backed off a bit. She nodded, looking satisfied, and turned to the bed. "You heard him, Hermione. No getting out of-" she stopped short, staring at the empty bed. "Merlin!" she shouted, turning on Severus. "WHERE IS SHE?!"

"It would appear," he said slowly, as if seriously considering where Hermione could have gone, "That she has left her bed."

The headmistress saw that the bathroom door was closed and ran to it, rapping on it sharply. Severus remained in his seat, smirking at the witch. He'd never seen her this way; she must really be concerned for Hermione. "Are you quite alright?" Hermione asked, opening the door and stepping out in front of Minerva.

The headmistress nodded dumbly for a moment. Hermione took her arm, looking like she pitied the older witch, and they walked back to the bed and Severus together. When Minerva left them to eat their food, Hermione sat on the edge of her bed and Severus sat in his chair. Hermione took a bite of her hot scone and said, "Now I'm sure that I'm not dead."

Severus looked amused. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her since he found that she was awake, as long as she was in the same room as him. When they had finished eating, Crookshanks jumped onto her bed with a _meow_, apparently having decided to show himself in spite of the strange man in their room. Hermione stroked the cat and read the newspapers, all of which were announcing in bold print that she and Severus had nearly died and that Rookwood was no longer on the loose. And all the while Severus didn't look away from her. Just as she had feared that if she let go of him he would vanish, he feared that if he looked away, she would be gone from his life forever, nothing but a memory.

She felt his gaze intensify and looked up. She looked at him questioningly. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

He gave an almost indiscernible shake of his head. They were both silent for a moment, gazing into each other's eyes. Severus blinked and looked away momentarily, but then he caught and held her gaze again. "I love you."

A smile tugged at the corners of Hermione's mouth when he said it. Not breaking eye contact, she said, "I love you."

**Hello everyone! Please, pretty please, review if you have the time? I would love to know what you think of this chapter! There are still more to come, so thank you for sticking with me so far and please keep reading in the future! I love you all! ~Taelr**


	23. Someday

Hermione sighed and stood to answer the door. She hated this. Severus stepped inside and closed the door behind him, two trays of food floating to rest on the desk in the study. Hermione frowned at him, but couldn't hide how pleased she was to see him. He brought her meals to her room every day, and her only joy about it was that he stayed to eat with her. She had been declared well enough to take care of herself only a day after she woke up, and Severus had gone back to teaching classes. Slughorn had asked Minerva if he could take a short holiday to visit an ailing friend, so Draco was still teaching defense against the dark arts. The headmistress was still teaching in Hermione's place.

There had indeed been many visitors to her rooms after everyone heard that she was awake. Harry and Ron had showed, though Harry did most of the talking and asked Hermione all the questions and Ron hung back and stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. He apologized for what he'd said and done at Saint Mungo's and Hermione had forgiven him and hugged him, but he still seemed nervous around her. Severus had left to allow her privacy with her friends and the people who came to visit.

She was well enough to walk around her own rooms even that first day with Severus, but she made anyone who came to see her swear that they wouldn't tell Madam Pomfrey that she'd been sitting in the chair by her bed or on the couch in the study talking to them rather than lying obediently in her bed. So far, it seemed, the school healer knew nothing of the fact that her orders were being disregarded.

Draco had even come to see her, but before he could thank her she was thanking him and congratulating him on his position in defense against the dark arts. "It's only temporary," he had argued, turning slightly red at her congratulations. But she had laughed and waved his complaints away. He had then apologized for the way he'd treated her in school and given a different, shorter version of the things he'd said when he thought she was dead in the Chamber of Secrets. She had accepted his apology and forgiven him as soon as he finished speaking. Then they had actually talked about how busy it kept them to be teachers and how different it was to be called "Professor" by the students when both of them were still young enough to have come back for another year of school.

It was odd, a bit disorienting, to talk and laugh with Draco Malfoy. Hermione could hardly believe she wasn't dreaming up some strange world where he wasn't so cruel and unkind. He was still the same, but also different. Of course, his personality hadn't changed deep down and he still put in an unkind or haughty remark or comment here and there. But Hermione was completely unaffected by these. She never truly realized that he'd been short with her or said something harshly until after she'd processed what he'd actually said and answered him. She supposed it was just something that came of spending so much time with Severus and loving _him_ in spite of _his_ disposition; she had grown accustomed to hostile or unpleasant behavior or things he said and had learned to look deeper and find the true meanings behind them.

Draco had changed, and was much more mature and actually pleasant to be around, just as Severus was with her. But just as Severus did, he would occasionally fall back into his cold, hard behavior and say or do something that was mean and uncalled for. Hermione knew that no one else could understand or see past Draco and Severus' actions when they were ill-tempered or unfriendly, and felt proud and pleased that she had learned to do what others couldn't.

She had the feeling that Draco had expected things to be slightly awkward between them, and she herself hadn't thought that they would be able to talk as if they were actually _friends_. But things had become comfortable once they started talking and said hello and now she actually did consider him a friend. How strange for the enemy of her past to be the friend of her present. Then again, she thought, she had counted Severus an enemy just before the last battle ended the war and now she was in love with him.

Neville had come to visit as soon as he could, although when he arrived, Severus was there with her. The potions master had risen from his seat and left the room as soon as the younger man entered, but Neville had still seemed ill at ease until the door was shut and it was only he and Hermione. They had sat together and talked for hours. From teaching to his apprenticeship, letters he'd received from and sent to Luna, and the rumors spreading between students, they talked about almost every subject. And then they came to the topic of Severus and Hermione's romance.

Neville was terrified of Severus, so naturally, he couldn't understand how Hermione could care for the man, let alone _love_ him. He had asked politely how her love for the potions master had come about, and made it clear that if it was personal, she needn't tell him. Hermione had stared at him for a long moment, thinking. She mused shortly over whether to tell him everything or just bits and pieces. But then she remembered that he had been completely honest with her about Luna and about his parents, among other things. He had trusted her completely, so she might as well trust him. So she told him the story as she had told Ginny, playing down some parts more because he wasn't a female and wouldn't giggle at the more romantic parts of the story.

In fact, Hermione was the one giggling as she told it because Neville's face grew pale and he often looked incredulous when she told about a kiss or a kind moment. His facial expressions over certain parts of the story were very diverse and there were many; from disgust to pleasure to disbelief to horror and fear. Hermione thought them quite hilarious, but managed to keep most of the laughter inside and giggle only occasionally. She could have sworn that he even turned green when she talked about Severus admitting that he had lied and confessing his love for her.

After the story, Neville had _some_ questions like Ginny had, though his were far fewer in number and it was obvious he was apprehensive and didn't really want all the details. By the end of it, though, he seemed a bit more capable of accepting that Hermione and Severus really were in love, though he was still dubious.

They had finished on a happy note, talking more about Luna, who was apparently heading home after an outing with her father, hunting for Blibbering Humdingers, or as Neville put it, "She's on her way back with her dad. They were gone looking for a blubbering Dinghummer or something of the like."

Neville had left when Severus returned with lunch. Severus left as soon as they had finished eating, as he had classes to return to, while Neville had been given the morning off because Pomona had wanted him to come and see Hermione so that he could go back and tell her "how the girl's recovering."

Ginny came in after lunch and didn't even cringe when Severus glared at her and asked, "Aren't you supposed to be hurrying to your next class, Miss Weasley?"

She had only smirked at him in return and said, "Thank you for your concern about my education, _Professor_, but Professor McGonagall's given me permission to skip classes for the rest of the day and spend some time with my best friend."

Severus had scowled at her and left without a word. Hermione was sure he would be complaining later that his reputation as a horrid and terrifying man was being ruined by the news of a Gryffindor being able to _love_ him. Smiling to herself, Hermione jumped up to hug Ginny, who was surprised that her friend was so well and able to get around fine already. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Pomfrey's being a bit too careful over my health," she sighed.

Ginny giggled and plopped down on the bed beside Hermione. "She's just worried and wants you to recover completely, that's all."

Hermione rolled her eyes and then grinned at her friend, who grinned back. They were silent for a moment and then they became serious.

Ginny grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. "I missed you."

"I missed you," Hermione said, nodding.

Ginny smiled. "It's been so different this year, without you in Gryffindor tower with me. It wasn't so bad when I could talk to you after classes, but it's terrible now, without you to talk to."

Hermione smiled back. "I'm sure it is, but how do you think I've felt? I'm stuck in here, and I love having Severus with me and talking to Neville and Harry was nice, but they're boys. You've actually got other girls around to talk to!"

The two of them talked the rest of the day, and Ginny didn't even leave when Severus came with dinner. Hermione, in spite of Severus' glare directed her way, made a duplicate of her tray of food for Ginny, and the girls talked more during the meal while Severus sat and ate in silence.

Ginny left and Hermione sat back on her bed, looking at Severus. She thought of some things that hadn't occurred to her before. "Severus, did they ever find out how Rookwood got into the castle?"

He shook his head. "He's dead and can't give us answers, and apparently he obliviated the other to be safe should anything go wrong. Potter's convinced he used a secret entrance, but Minerva and Dumbledore had all of those taken care of-"

"No they didn't," Hermione cut in.

He raised his eyebrows but didn't ask for her to explain. "Perhaps it was a secret entrance, then," he said, sounding as if he was still skeptical.

Hermione smirked at him. He stood to leave and she moved from the bed to his side. He kissed her before he left and she curled up in bed, turning out the lights before she fell asleep.

The next day was Saturday, and there was no school. Hermione was surprised when there was a knock at her door before breakfast, and it wasn't Severus. Instead, she opened the door to find the headmistress and a certain student standing there. Minerva left and said that the girl could leave whenever she liked. Hermione was thrilled. The two of them sat on her bed and she looked down at her student. Before she could say anything, the girl threw her arms around her and hugged her.

Laughing, she eventually got her to let go and then they just sat in silence for a few moments while Elise looked around the room and Hermione smiled down at her. "Can I ask you something about the night you went to the Chamber of Secrets with Professor Snape?" she asked after a while, her eyes returning to Hermione's face.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Anything."

Elise smiled at her, but then it faded and she frowned. "If you went through the halls on your way there, why didn't anyone see you?"

Hermione didn't understand the question. "All of the students were either in their common rooms or in Hogsmeade, and besides Professor Snape, myself, and the headmistress, all of the teachers had gone to Hogsmeade with the students."

The girl shook her head. "No, I know that. I meant, why didn't any of the portraits see you?"

Hermione nodded, understanding. "Oh, the portraits." She frowned and said, "Most of them are rather deep sleepers, I suppose. I'm not sure why none of them did!"

Elise nodded. Then they talked about portraits, past and present teachers at the school, and how soon Hermione thought she could be back and teaching again. They were interrupted by Severus' arrival, and he had—at Minerva's instruction—brought three trays of breakfast along with him. Hermione watched Elise's face carefully when Severus entered, curious to see what the girl thought of him.

He walked in and sat down in the chair beside the bed without looking at Elise. The girl regarded him as she would have a random stranger; as if he didn't really matter or interest her all that much. Hermione found this amusing. It was even funnier to her when Severus left after the meal and Elise turned to look at her as soon as he had gone. "You _love_ him?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows, but then nodded. "Yes, I do."

Elise made a face. "_How_? He's not very nice. And he isn't exactly very handsome. No offense. And he's always so cold and hard and secretive about everything!"

Hermione laughed. "It's . . . complicated."

Elise tossed her head and rolled her eyes. "It's . . . complicated," she mimicked in a good imitation of Hermione's voice.

Hermione bit her lip and watched the girl, more and more amused as this went on. "You made some valid reasons not to like him," she said, and Elise looked up, "but he has some good qualities as well."

Elise folded her arms across her chest and looked up at Hermione, raising her eyebrows. "Forgive me for being fresh, Professor, but really. Name three good qualities in Professor Snape."

Hermione felt a smile tugging at her lips, but she managed to keep a straight, serious face. "Let's see," she mused, biting her lip for a moment and looking down at her student again. "He saved Harry, Ron, and my lives multiple times and protected us when we were younger."

Elise nodded. "Okay, fine. You have one reason to like him. One. I asked for three."

Hermione laughed, shaking her head at the girl's demeanor and tone of voice, and said, "All right, here's another: He's only hard on the outside because he's had a very difficult life; on the inside he's not so cold and he's really quite charming.

Elise raised her eyebrows. "Charming? Please, Professor, of all the descriptive adjectives that you could use to define Professor Snape, that doesn't seem like the right kind of word."

Hermione smiled, watching Elise's face with amusement.

"You've still got another to name before we have three," the girl reminded her.

Hermione nodded. "He is passionate; when he dislikes someone, he loathes them, and when he loves someone, he _loves_ them. How's that for the third?"

Elise frowned. "Fine. You've found three. Can you name more? How about naming ten good things about him?"

Hermione shook her head. "Three is plenty for now. Besides, we'll be here all day and half of the night if I list everything I like about him."

Elise sighed, looking exasperated with her teacher.

Hermione changed the subject, and they talked about studies and Elise's favorite subjects and her favorite books for a while. Severus came to bring lunch and Elise ate with them again, talking up a storm all the while. She left after lunch, and Hermione smiled once she had gone. Elise seemed to be the only young person currently attending the school as a student who actually knew where to find the teachers' quarters and what the password required to get inside was. Thinking back to certain special privileges she'd been given and things she'd been trusted with because of being a good student when she was in school, she turned and looked at Severus.

And then the complaining over students not being quite as afraid of him as they used to be came. Hermione managed to bear it with a grim and serious expression, but when he finished and gave her an exacerbated glare she started laughing. He scowled and she moved to his side. "I'm sorry," she said, looking sincerely apologetic.

Severus looked down his nose at her, but smirked. He brought up their earlier subject of what they would have regretted most had they died in the Chamber of Secrets. This change of subject surprised her, but she didn't argue or change it back. He was still disbelieving that of all the things she could regret most, it was that she hadn't made him smile. "Has your opinion changed or do you still regret what you did the day that you woke up?" he asked, smirking at her once more.

She frowned as she thought. "Hmm," she mused, "I'm still annoyed that I haven't made you smile yet, but I suppose that now I think about it, I would regret something else more."

He raised his eyebrows. "And that would be . . .?"

Hermione laughed. "It has to do with you, but I don't think I'll tell you."

He glared at her.

"Severus, please," she said, rolling her eyes at him, "You never gave me an answer and that question was one that I originally asked you. So I'm not giving you an answer."

He scowled. "You make me suffer even though I don't know the answer to your question?"

Hermione grinned and nodded.

He shook his head at her, irked by her behavior. "But your deepest regret does have to do with me still?"

Hermione was smirking now. "Yes."

Severus fell silent, thinking over this and pondering the different ideas of what her regret could be. He stared at the wall blankly until Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder. Then he came back to her from his thoughts. "Will you ever tell me?" he asked, trying to look and sound indifferent though it suddenly meant quite a bit to him whether she told him or not.

"Someday," she said, smiling at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Have you any idea how much I _despise_ that word?"

**Hey guys, sorry this one's short but between Halloween and school and everything I was too busy to make it longer! Hope you liked it! Please review if you have a moment. Thanks! Love you all so much! ~Taelr**


	24. The Silver Doe

Hermione set aside the stack of papers she had just finished grading and set down her quill. She looked up in surprise when someone entered the room. "Draco?" she asked, surprised that he had come to her classroom.

She had started calling him by his first name as soon as he became a teacher at the school. Even if it was temporary, she had accepted Minerva's desire for the staff to be on personal, first name terms, and it had actually been rather easy for her. He had also adapted Minerva's idea and started calling Hermione by her first name. She knew from experience how awkward it had been at first for him to call the people who had once been his professors by their first names, but they seemed to accept it rather quickly and he followed their example. Harry and Ron still called him _Malfoy_ and of their friends from school only Hermione and Neville referred to him by his first name. Ginny didn't even seem to mind so much when she had to start calling him _Professor_ _Malfoy_.

Draco stood where he was, in the doorway, and didn't enter the room. "I stopped in to say thank you, again, and goodbye."

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. "Will you stop that? Thank _you_. I need to be thanking you, not the other way around."

He grimaced at her, glaring, but it was only halfhearted.

"You're leaving?" she asked when he said nothing.

He nodded and his face cleared for a moment before he gave a genuine grimace. "Slughorn's been back a few days and doesn't need me to teach anymore, I've apologized to you and to the school, and thanked you as well. I did what I came for—and more—and now my mother won't let up about how I need to get home."

Hermione nodded. He tensed when she stood up and walked over to him. She held out her hand and he shook it. "Thanks," they said at the same time. Hermione grinned at him and he gave a nervous smile.

"Give your mum my best," Hermione said as he started to turn towards the door.

He nodded to her, something glinting in his eyes, and said, "I'll do that."

Hermione glared at him, though he knew it was fake. "Now go on, get out of here, Malfoy."

He raised his eyebrows and turned around, smirking as he threw over his shoulder, "Have fun staying locked up in a classroom all day, Granger," before he disappeared through the door.

She walked back to her desk and sat down, smiling to herself. It was strange, to be pretending with Draco Malfoy that they were back in school and they loathed one another. Stranger even simply because she was pretending anything _with_ Draco Malfoy.

She looked up again when more people came into the classroom, but this time it was a group of students. Smiling brightly at them, she waited until they had all found their seats and taken out their books, and she started the class.

It had been two weeks since Madam Pomfrey had finally let her out of her room to teach again and actually participate in the goings on of the outside world, and three weeks since she'd woken after nearly losing her life. It was a month since Rookwood's attack on the school and his death. She and the students were equally happy that she was fully recovered, and though they did love their headmistress, she was still their favorite, especially now that they had nearly lost her. The Slytherin students seemed undecided; they wanted to hate her still for making Severus love her, but they also wanted to like her because she was the nicest teacher and she gave out less homework and really connected with them as best she could.

Just as spending time with Severus had made her capable of seeing the true meanings behind his and Draco's behavior, she now understood the Slytherin students' behavior much better as well. She did truly connect with them, and just as well as she did with the other three houses. And then there had been war within Slytherin house when Hermione returned to her position as transfiguration teacher and Draco was still teaching defense against the dark arts. Students had taken sides, and the ones who still liked Hermione better were considered traitors to their house, as the rest of them chose Draco as their favorite. The discord had grown so strong among the Slytherins that whoever was patrolling the dungeon at night could simply stand outside of the entrance to the Slytherin common room and wait for a couple of them to sneak out in order to duel or fight over which teacher was better.

Draco and Hermione had happened to both be walking the dungeon one night to be sure all of the students were in bed where they belonged and eventually both found themselves waiting outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room. A whole group of students had come out under disillusionment charms, but their many feet and hoarse whispers had given them away immediately. Hermione and Draco had both been under disillusionment charms themselves, and the students didn't know that their teachers were there until the two of them used the counter charm and unveiled nearly twenty Slytherin students, who ranged in age everywhere from first years to seventh years. The teachers had also unveiled each other without meaning to, and had started in surprise at one another's presence, but then shared a smirk over the now-visible students caught between them.

Some of the students had been outraged to find that Draco had turned against them and when he gave them all detention for sneaking out, they were furious with him. Others were even angrier at Hermione because she was a Gryffindor and she dared to take away a great number of points from their house. She took only a few points from the house because of each student's misdemeanor, but all together they added up to a larger number than the students would have liked to hear. The students who didn't care about house points or detention, however, were furious because they found Draco and Hermione working together against them. The two sides of their argument had joined against them, and they were paying for it. The students who liked Hermione were mildly annoyed at their reduction of house points and assigning of detention, but didn't mind so much and took great pleasure in seeing the pained or angry expressions of their fellow students at the sight of Hermione and Draco working together.

The students had been sent back to their common room and Hermione and Draco had gone their separate ways without a word to each other, though they had nodded before they turned away and shared a smirk over their victory.

When classes were over for the day Hermione put all of the homework and papers into her desk drawer. She could grade those later. She made her way to the Great Hall and arrived early, before most of the students came. She stood around and talked to Neville until the students and the rest of the staff entered the hall. They all found their seats and Minerva stood up to address the students. There would be a trip to Hogsmeade the following day, as it was a Saturday, and the last one before Christmas, which was only a week away.

When the headmistress sat down, the meal began and Neville started talking about what he thought he should get for Luna. Hermione was more than willing to share what she thought her friend would like, but it took some consideration, as Luna was quite _different_ than anyone either of them had ever met. This Christmas was going to be different for Hermione. Most of the students were going home for the holiday and she could go back to the Burrow to celebrate with the Weasleys if she wanted to. But part of her wanted to stay and see what things would be like from a teacher's perspective. She also wanted to stay with Severus and celebrate with him, but she wondered if the man even knew _how_ to celebrate.

Neville was going home to stay with his Gran and he was going to visit his parents on Christmas day. Hermione thought that she would want to visit her parents as well. She hadn't seen them since her last fight with Ron, after she had saved Draco, and wanted to go and tell them about everything that had happened with Rookwood and since then.

Neville started talking to Pomona and Hermione turned to glance at Severus. She was surprised to find him watching her. She raised her eyebrows at him and he rolled his eyes. She had caught him looking at her on more occasions than ever before, sometimes just staring. It was the oddest thing, and she couldn't understand why he would behave so.

She didn't realize just how much of an effect their experience in the Chamber of Secrets had actually had on him. There was no longer a mad dark wizard running amuck and trying to kill her, but he hadn't yet completely recovered from the shock of seeing her dead. Of course, she hadn't really been dead, just barely holding on. But he had been so completely convinced that night that she was gone and he had lost her, had failed to protect her. He was still moving back to the regular world from the dark, nightmarish one he had entered when he thought her life had ended.

He looked at her differently now. There was no one—not even Lily—who had ever done this to him. Of course, had Lily actually turned out to be alive after he'd lamented her death, she would probably have captivated him as Hermione did now. There was a simple explanation, really; the belief that the woman next to him was dead had been engrained into his very soul, carved into him so deeply that her survival was some miracle, some unbelievable thing that seemed impossible, and yet her she was still sitting beside him at that very moment.

Knowing that Hermione was in the school with him, knowing that she was safe and happy, it wasn't enough anymore. He had to be positive that she was well at all hours. He saw only one way to bring about a life where she was with him at all times, but would she care for the idea at all? Would she flinch or cringe if he suggested it? Or would she run into his arms and smile and tell him she wanted nothing more than what he had just proposed?

Severus stared into her eyes, searching for the answer to his question there. But she gave none. Instead, she was asking what was the matter with him because he was staring again. He looked back to his plate of food, frowning.

Hermione continued to look at him, concerned now. There had been something in his eyes, an unasked question. Some unspoken inquiry that she couldn't decipher. He turned and looked at her suddenly. She blinked in surprise but waited. He asked, "Will you be going to stay with Weasley and her family"—Hermione knew he was speaking of Ginny rather than Ron as her link to the Weasleys—"for the holiday or remaining here?"

Hermione looked into his eyes. There was that unspoken query within them again, but she was still unable to understand it so she ignored it and answered the question he had actually asked instead. "I'm not sure yet, but I probably will go to the Burrow. And I think I'll visit my parents on Christmas day." She raised her eyebrows at him and said, "And I suppose you'll be staying here at the school?"

He smirked at her, which answered her question. The questioning look was still in his eyes, but he looked away and she tried to forget about it because it was bothering her.

When the meal was over, the students began leaving the Great Hall. Hermione was surprised to see Ginny making her way in the direction of the staff table. She rose to meet her friend and the redhead tossed her hair over her shoulder and grinned at her. "Mum's asked if you'll come spend Christmas with us?"

Hermione smiled at her. She glanced over at Severus, who was standing beside Filius. The charms teacher was talking to the potions master, but Severus was watching Hermione and apparently not hearing a word of what the small man was saying. Hermione looked back to Ginny and nodded. "Yes. I'd love to."

Ginny giggled and Hermione tilted her head to the side. "What is it?"

Ginny smiled. "Ron's going to panic."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Why would he do that?"

Ginny gave her an incredulous look. "Come on, you know the answer to that!"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think I do."

"He's totally jealous!" she lowered her voice, "of Snape, I mean. He can't believe he lost you to, well . . ." she looked past Hermione to Severus and bit her lip, "to _that_."

Hermione laughed. "Oh, yes, that makes sense."

Ginny nodded. "Hey, can we talk?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows again but nodded and looked around the Great Hall. All of the students had left and only a few of the staff—including Severus—remained. Then she linked arms with Ginny and they left the hall as if they were both students. They went to Hermione's office and sat in the comfortable chairs, talking for several hours. They even talked for a while about Neville and Luna. Apparently Neville was planning on visiting his girlfriend at her home after he saw his parents at Saint Mungo's.

When they were both yawning they decided it was time for bed. Then they stood up and linked arms again. Hermione walked with Ginny to Gryffindor tower, and they stopped in front of the portrait that was the secret entrance. The fat lady barely opened her eyes, yawning and looking annoyed. She didn't seem to see Hermione standing there as well. "Don't you know girl, you aren't supposed to be out of bed this late at night."

Hermione smiled up at the fat lady in spite of herself and said, "No need to worry over the students; I needed to speak to her about studies."

The fat lady glanced at Hermione and nodded. Ginny said the password and the portrait swung forward. She turned around and hugged Hermione, who hugged her back. "Will you go to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" the younger witch asked.

Hermione nodded. "I think so."

Grinning as they parted ways, Ginny climbed through the entrance in the wall and Hermione turned her back on the portrait as it swung closed. As she walked away, she heard the fat lady mumble after her, "I remember when you were just a tiny girl, a student. Thinking you're something big because you've got the title 'Professor' is ridiculous, really . . ."

Hermione shook her head and made her way to the dungeons. Mrs. Norris came padding silently along a corridor and the caretaker was following her. Filch raised his lantern to look ahead of him and started to open his mouth and yell about students being out of bed, but Hermione shushed him by talking first. "Argus, it's just me."

He looked taken aback. "Who?"

Hermione stepped into the circle of light from the lantern and smiled at him kindly. Part of her felt terribly sorry for him, because he was a squib, but part of her also disliked him greatly because he'd never been kind to students and he didn't truly have their wellbeing as a priority. He just liked catching students in acts of disobedience, though why he enjoyed it she would never understand. "It's me. Hermione," she said.

He looked her up and down. "Oh." Then he narrowed his eyes. "You aren't someone polyjuiced to look like, uh . . . you?"

She was amused by his question, but kept a serious face. "No."

He still looked suspicious. "You're sure?"

Hermione smiled lightly. "Quite sure."

He grunted and moved on along the hall without another word. Hermione turned her back on him and didn't look back. She knew these halls and corridors well enough to walk through them with her eyes closed, so she didn't mind walking in the dark. She was to the staircase to the dungeon when she caught sight of a tall figure standing at the bottom, even darker than the shadows around her. Taking out her wand, she held it out in front of her and said, "_Lumos,"_ lighting her way as she went down the stairs. She was sure that it wasn't anyone to worry about, whoever was there. And she was right.

Severus blinked in annoyance when she came closer and the light from her wand started to hurt his eyes. She saw it was him and stopped the glowing spell, tucking her wand away in her robes again. They waited for their eyes to adjust to the dim corridor again before she turned and looked at him. "Severus," she said in greeting.

"Hermione."

"What are you doing?"

"I am standing here. What did you think I was doing?" he asked, and though she couldn't see his face well in the darkness, she knew he was smirking at her.

"That isn't what I meant," she answered. She smirked back at him through the darkness at his dry humor.

Now she was sure he was rolling his eyes at her.

"Were you . . . waiting for me?" she asked.

"Hmm, stating the obvious, are we?" he asked in return.

She smiled at him through the darkness and took his arm. They walked back to the teachers' lounge together and he walked her to her door. There was no one else in the lounge, and he pulled her into his arms. She hadn't had much time to be near him since she had left her rooms and gotten back to her regular life as a teacher, and it was the first time in weeks that he had embraced her. The way that he held her to him was desperate, wanting, as if he never wanted to let her go again. She buried her face in his chest, surprised by how forward and unafraid he was. Then again, the realized he'd been acting much less awkward and nervous since the incident in the Chamber of Secrets. It was as if he was afraid that any moment he had with her might be his last and as a result he didn't hold back in fear of showing his love anymore.

Hermione looked up into his face, biting her lip. He was holding her so close she could scarcely breathe. But she didn't mind in the least. He took one of his arms from around her, loosening his grip on her so she could breathe again. He brushed the hair out of her eyes and leaned down, pressing his lips against hers. She wondered what had gotten into him, why he was acting this way. That look was in his eyes again, but she still failed to understand. He pulled her in once more and set his chin on the top of her head, and she pressed her face into his chest again.

How long they stood there that way, neither knew, but it was as if they were in some timeless world all their own when they were together. At last, Severus felt Hermione sigh and feared that she would fall asleep in his arms. Not that he would mind, but she shouldn't be so tired that she was falling asleep on him. He let her go, placing a soft kiss on her temple and stepping back. He watched her turn and enter her rooms, closing the door behind her. Then he walked to his own door, staring for a few moments at the doe carved into it before he entered.

Neither of them had looked at the carving on Hermione's door, though if they had, both would have been quite surprised.

Hermione changed into her pajamas and sat on the edge of her bed with Crookshanks sitting beside her. His tail twitched and he looked restless. Wondering if he had perhaps become tired of prowling her rooms with nothing to do, she snatched her wand from the bedside table and looked down at him, an idea forming in her mind. "Want someone to play with?" she asked the cat, who looked back, his green eyes staring at her steadily.

She pointed her wand and thought about Severus on his knees, crying and clinging to her hands as he admitted that he loved her. It was a bittersweet memory, yes, but it was happy as well as sad, and the happiness stored in it was enough for the spell she wanted. She held the image of the memory in her mind and whispered, "_Expecto Patronum."_

She nearly fell off of her bed in surprise at the silver animal that burst out of wand rather than her otter. Crookshanks didn't seem half as surprised as she was, though. He jumped off of the bed and chased the animal around the room, and they frolicked together, one of them physical and furry and orange, the other wispy and misty and silver.

Hermione turned around and watched them as they moved around the room, and when they entered the study and went out of sight she rose from her bed and walked around the frame that separated her bedroom from where they'd gone so she could see them. She stared, wide-eyed. The two animals continued to frolic and play, bounding around together. Crookshanks seemed most pleased with his new friend. Hermione continued to stare. She watched them until Crookshanks was tired from running and jumping around, and he jumped on the back of the couch and curled up there, watching his silver friend as it stopped in the middle of the room and turned to look at Hermione.

They stared at each other, Hermione and her patronus, for a few seconds. Then it moved, bounding towards her suddenly.

"Severus," she whispered as her silver doe leapt over her head and vanished, dissipating into nothingness.

**I hope you enjoyed reading this one. I definitely had some fun writing it. I know it's short, but I'm going to start working on the next right away, and I might even have it up later today! Maybe. This was kind of just a shorter one because the next one will be longer and have some rather nice surprises in it. Hopefully you will enjoy that one as well! **

**Note: Some of you have made comments about Severus and how I've described him from Hermione's point of view (she is surprised at how he is in rather good shape for being nearly 40). I would like to clear up that this story is based completely off of the books, not the movies. While Alan Rickman portrayed Severus Snape very well in the films, he was in his 60's when they finished filming the last one. The Severus in the books and in this story is only in his 30's, so he doesn't look quite as old as the Severus in the movies. Also, JK Rowling described him as being taller and thin, extremely pale, and with greasy hair. In the movies, Alan Rickman was tall, but he wasn't as thin as I picture the Severus in the books being. The Severus in my story is also paler than the movie Severus, and he actually has- or had, before his love for Hermione- greasy hair. JK Rowling also wrote the later books (after Alan Rickman had been cast as Severus) with Alan's voice as Severus' in her mind. While I do think that Alan's voice and his way of speaking with pauses and in a monotone are what the Severus in the books would have sounded like, I think that their appearances would differ a bit. **

**Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me so far and I can hardly wait to get some of the coming chapters on here because I'm sure you'll love them! I have some interesting things planned for Severus' and Hermione's future! Please review if you have a moment! All my love! ~Taelr**


	25. Merry Christmas

Hermione smiled when she opened her door. It was Severus. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He glanced at the foot of her bed, where her trunk was. But it wasn't the trunk that had drawn his eyes; on top of it several bags and boxes sat, waiting to be taken to the Burrow. Almost all of the students had left that morning on the Hogwarts Express for Platform 9 ¾ to go home for the holidays. There was a house elf with long white hair growing out of his ears who hurried around the room, trying to catch Crookshanks. Kreacher finally gave up on chasing him and apparated to the place right in front of the cat, stopping the animal in his tracks. Then Kreacher scooped up the cat, who yowled, complaining loudly, and carried him over to the bags on top of the trunk. Hermione nodded to him and he bowed, letting Crookshanks' bottom brush the floor when he did. He placed a hand on the bags and apparated, taking them with him to the Burrow.

Hermione looked back to Severus, who was watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. Unbidden, he closed the space between them and pulled her against him. She looked up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and stood on her toes, pulling herself up to kiss him. When it ended they stared into each other's eyes for a moment. He sighed and she detected some emotion in his expression. The strange, searching look that had come into his eyes nearly a week before was still there, but there was something else—worry, perhaps?—in his dark brown orbs as well. She bit her lip and smiled up at him, and he didn't even scowl at her for biting her lip. She took a deep breath just as he did, still locked tight in his arms. "I'll be back in a few days," she said, smiling again.

She pressed her face into his chest again and he rested his chin on the top of her head. "Be safe," he whispered.

She pulled away enough so that she could see his face, but was still in his arms. She smiled, but it was a strange, upset smile, twisted by confusion and surprise. "Severus," she blinked a few times, "I'll be fine. It's only a few days. It's Christmas, for goodness sake! And there aren't any more lunatic wizards around who want to kill either of us." She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. "What are you worried about?"

He didn't speak and stared into her eyes, trying to explain his answer to her in silence, but she only got part of his unspoken message.

She sighed. "I'll be completely safe," she insisted. "I'll be surrounded by two aurors, a dragon-keeper, someone who works for Gringott's—the safest place in the world to keep something—and overall a group of people who love me and would never let anything happen to me."

He nodded and then smirked. "Keep an eye on Weasley. I do _not_ want him trying anything."

Hermione laughed, relieved that Severus didn't seem so worried about her safety as much as annoyed about Ron. "He wouldn't dare," she said simply, smirking back. "For one thing, he knows he's already on thin ice. To try anything would be crazy, and he knows it. And for another, when he . . . . kissed me . . ." she had some minor difficulty getting the words out, "He had no idea that I was already spoken for. And by you of all people. He wouldn't dare challenge you like that if he had known."

"He pulled his wand on me in the hospital," Severus reminded her as he stroked her hair.

She shrugged, or tried anyways, failing because of how close he was holding her. "He was really upset. When Ron loses his temper, he does things he would never do in his right mind, things that he'll regret later."

Severus nodded, his face bored. He obviously didn't like discussing Ron. Hermione changed the subject then. "They're expecting me to floo to the house from my office with Ginny any time now."

He sighed, and there was a look that could have been pain that briefly lit his eyes.

She reached up, putting her hand on his cheek and staring into his eyes. "I love you."

He leaned down to kiss her. "I love you."

He hesitated a moment and then let her go, and Hermione was sure that she had actually seen him deciding whether to stop her from going by the look in his eyes. She didn't step back, but he didn't have his arms around her anymore. Hermione glanced around her room one last time to be sure she had everything she wanted for her short vacation and then turned back to Severus. He offered his arm and she took it. They walked out of the teachers' lounge and found Ginny waiting in the corridor outside for them. She smiled at them both, and Severus glared fiercely at her for it. She linked arms with Hermione's free arm and they walked up to her office together.

Kreacher had come and taken Ginny's things to the Burrow as well as Hermione's, so they didn't have any bags or luggage to take with them. They reached Hermione's office and Ginny looked to Hermione questioningly. Hermione grinned at her and nodded towards the fire, foreseeing the quick moment of awkwardness that would occur between Ginny and Severus if Hermione flooed first. Ginny grinned back and took a fistful of green powder from the container on a nearby shelf. She flung it into the fire and the flames turned green and roared higher than before. She stepped into the fire and said clearly, "The Burrow," before the flames rose even higher, and then she was gone, leaving Severus and Hermione alone.

Severus leaned down and kissed Hermione one last time, but she gave him a stern look that stopped him from any more whisperings about staying safe. She stepped up to the fire and had her back to him. He had turned to go to the door, and was just walking out of it. She hadn't told Severus about her patronus changing to mirror his. Deciding it could be an early Christmas present for him, she quickly took out her wand and pointed it to the door, through which he'd just disappeared. "_Expecto Patronum_," she whispered.

A silver doe burst out of her wand tip and stood in the midst of the room, looking at her. "Go to him," Hermione said, nodding towards the door and watching the animal bound away to do as she'd said. She tucked her wand away, threw a fistful of powder into the fire, and flooed to the Burrow without another glance back.

She stepped out of the fireplace and just had time to use magic to get the soot and ash off of her robes before a whole group of people converged on her and squeezed her until she thought she heard one of her ribs crack. When at last they stood back and let her stand on her own and breathe again, she took a deep breath and grinned at them all. The Weasleys were all there, along with Harry. Fleur stepped out of the crowd and kissed Hermione's cheek, and when she drew back Hermione smiled at the baby in her arms, who had bright purple hair.

Little Teddy Lupin had been placed under the care of Molly and Arthur Weasley after his parents deaths during the battle at Hogwarts. He looked healthy and happy in his adopted sister-in-law's arms. Harry was his godfather, but at eighteen and with a career as an auror Harry hadn't thought himself an acceptable caretaker for the baby. The Weasleys were raising Teddy as their own, though of course he would keep his parents' name. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if, when he was older, Teddy would keep his hair red and make himself look like a Weasley, as he was a metamorphmagus like his mother had been.

They all sat down or stood around the kitchen after things settled down, and everyone was served dinner. All of them were thrilled to have Hermione and Ginny back, and Ginny and Harry were less than enigmatic about their joy at being together again. Hermione was surprised later when someone knocked on the door and George jumped up, looking actually happy and as if he were anticipating something. He was obviously getting better and recovering more and more with each day from the loss of his twin, but it was still a burden he carried, and everyone could see it. Hermione was the only one who was surprised when he walked back in with Angelina Johnson holding his hand and smiling at him.

They stayed up late, swapping stories until it was late. Everyone wanted to know about Rookwood's attack on the school and Hermione told the story, and everyone had questions. The obvious question—why she and Severus were walking together through the dungeon—was the only one that didn't get asked. Of course, all of the people there had heard of she and the potions master's love for one another, and it had been confirmed as fact and not just rumor when Ron and Harry had come back to visit after they saw Hermione at Saint Mungo's.

At last, Ginny seemed unable to take the blatant way they were ignoring the obvious question, and she herself said, "Hermione, tell them about Severus."

Hermione turned quite red, but she told them that she did indeed love him, and when they asked for the full story, she shared the big parts, ignoring most of the details and sparing the male creatures in the room the ooh's and ah's of the females, who would undoubtedly have giggled and gasped over certain parts of the tale. When she was finished telling, Hermione was no longer red, and in fact looked rather as if she was going to remain unaffected no matter what the others thought of her now. However, Harry spoke up kindly after a while to break the silence. "Snape _is_ different since he's fallen for Hermione. I've seen it. Others have too."

Hermione remembered sending her patronus after Severus and wondered what he had thought of it and how he had reacted. She and the others stayed up late talking about everything, while Ginny sat beside Hermione on the floor and they had their arms around each other.

Back at Hogwarts, Severus was pacing his room, unable to sleep. It wasn't so much that he worried for Hermione's safety that he just wanted to be near her. The desire to hold her close or at least be in her presence was overpowering. And to be able to look at her face, see her smile, gaze into her bright, beautiful brown eyes, to know that she was alive. It was what he needed. He had to see her with his own eyes as he looked at her, feel her with his own hands as he held her in his arms, hear her with his own ears when she spoke, had have solid, physical proof to be sure that she really was still alive. He had lost her once, and just being away from her nearly felt like losing her again. There was the pleasant thought that she would return to him in a matter of days, but other thoughts echoed in his mind, whispering that she was dead, that she would die alone and without him around to protect her, that she wasn't safe even among friends.

He sat down on his bed and stared at the ground, remembering what had happened after Hermione had left. He had been walking away, back to his office to grade papers, when a silver doe identical to his own patronus had bounded past, turned, and stood in front of him, cocking its head and looking at him with silver eyes. He had frozen in place, and for a moment he had been sure that Lily had somehow sent him her patronus, as he knew that this was not his own. But then it had occurred to him that the doe had come from behind him, from Hermione's office. And everything clicked into place in his head; the doe was Hermione's patronus. Her patronus had changed for him. He had stared at the doe, momentarily paralyzed by the crippling depth of what the patronus meant. If Hermione's patronus had change to mirror his, then she was deeply in love, even more than he had dared to hope. It meant that she loved him as he loved her.

He admitted to himself that he had half expected his own patronus to change to an otter, but thinking over it all, it made more sense for Hermione's to have changed rather than his. The doe had trotted beside him in an almost friendly way, and they had walked back to the teachers' lounge together rather than to Severus' office. He needed to see something to be sure. The doe had entered the lounge with him and then vanished, and he had turned his back on the place that she had stood and approached Hermione's door, anticipating what he would find there. And sure enough, carved there into the wooden door among the swirling shapes and patterns, was a doe like his own. The doe on his door was bounding gracefully, as was Hermione's, though he inspected them and found that his own had changed and they seemed to be trying to bound right out of the doors towards each other.

Severus changed but was still restless. He lay down in bed and turned out the lights, but sleep would not come. He thought again about his solution to missing Hermione as he missed her even now. Her patronus had changed because she loved him so much. Surely that meant that he could ask her and she would say yes?

Severus decided then and there that he would indeed ask her, and finally fell into a restful sleep, thinking over and planning how to go about what he was now determined to do.

Severus Snape had never in his life even once considered marriage. He had loved Lily, yes, but he had loved her when they were children, and then the idea of marrying her—or asking her, for that matter—had never crossed his mind. When they had come to school and been separated into different houses, they had grown apart. That, doubled with Severus' decision to become a death eater, had caused a cavernous space to grow between them, until they were hardly friends anymore. He had still loved her, but she had moved on to love James Potter, and as soon as they were a couple Severus had known that he had no chance of getting Lily back. He had loved her from afar, cursed the day that she and James were wed, and cried with rage when he heard that Lily was pregnant.

Because the woman he loved had never loved him as he did her and because she was taken by James Potter when they were in school, there had never been time for him to consider asking her to marry him. She had never been his, not that way. But now, things were different. He loved a young woman who loved him and him alone and would never settle for another man. He loved a young woman whose heart didn't belong to another. He loved a young woman who, unbeknownst to him, wanted nothing more than to become his wife and bear his children.

The next morning Hermione woke up and grinned at Ginny. They had duplicated Ginny's bed and together the two beds took up most of the room, aside from their luggage. Ginny was just waking up as well, but she grinned back and sat up as Hermione did. They changed and got ready for their day. It was Christmas Eve, and everyone was going to take a last-minute trip to Diagon Alley to purchase gifts and enjoy themselves for the day. Everyone met downstairs in the kitchen, and they all ate breakfast and then gathered together. Angelina had slept on the couch downstairs overnight and was staying at the Burrow with the Weasleys for Christmas along with Hermione and Harry.

Then they flooed, one at a time, to Diagon Alley and met up in front of _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_. When Molly had counted heads at least four times and was finally convinced that they were all there safe and sound, they split up as they pleased. Hermione went with Ginny, Ron, and Harry, following George and Angelina into the joke shop. George—and Angelina with him—went to talk to the people working for him and make sure things were running smoothly, and the four friends split up into two groups. Harry and Ron went to look at some of the actual jokes and things, while Hermione and Ginny went to look at the pygmy puffs and love potions. Ginny still had Arnold, her purple pygmy puff, and started telling Hermione about how she had decided that she wanted to get him a friend.

The four friends spent hours in the joke shop before they browsed the other shops, most of which had only just reopened after the war. Hermione and Ginny linked arms and ran to Ollivander's wand shop, thrilled to see it open again. They stepped inside and Mr. Ollivander looked at them and a mysterious smile split across his face. Hermione had helped save him from Malfoy Manor and freed him from the dark lord only months before during the war. He nodded to them, and they nodded back. They looked around. All of the shelves of boxed wands were polished and clean, looking just as impressive and nice as they had years before when Hermione and then Ginny had first come in to get their own wands.

Everyone enjoyed their day in Diagon Alley, and Harry even went to Gringott's and took out some gold to spend on treating his friends to ice cream. They all bought plenty of things from multiple shops—though George's got the most business that day—and hid them from each other because most things were presents.

They flooed back to the Burrow late in the afternoon and everyone went to their rooms. They wrapped the gifts with magic or set the ones that had been wrapped in the shops aside and soon everyone was ready for Christmas the next day. Hermione and Ginny sat on their beds and talked while Crookshanks and Arnold chased each other around the room, under the furniture and across the floor. Ginny asked her if she had gotten Severus anything and she shook her head. "I thought about it plenty of times. I just never had any clue what I could get him that he would like or actually have any use for."

Ginny nodded.

They had grinned at each other then. Hermione was thrilled to have Ginny as a best friend; she was the only person aside from Harry who was completely unafraid to ask about things relating to Severus or her relationship with him, and even then Harry was hesitant sometimes. Ginny seemed to have accepted in full that Hermione and Severus really were together and in love and it was okay to ask them about their relationship.

Everyone went to sleep late that night, most of them in their own rooms. But as almost all of them were sharing their room with at least one other person, they talked together until around midnight, when their day at Diagon Alley, added to the late hour, finally made them turn out the lights and rest.

The next day there were presents at the foot of everyone's beds and people were opening them as soon as they woke. Hermione had indeed gotten a friend for Ginny to give to Arnold, a pink pygmy puff that was a female. It had been quite difficult to smuggle home a living creature and keep it in the same room as the person who was supposed to receive it, but Hermione had managed. Arnold, Crookshanks, and the new pygmy puff were soon running around on the floor. Ginny looked at the pink creature and pronounced her "Penelope" immediately. The Hermione had giggled and they had gone back to opening presents together.

Hermione received a new sweater from Molly, several "Intriguing" muggle items from Arthur, books from Percy, books from Ron, books from Harry, a beautiful goblin-made necklace from Fleur (and Bill, though he had signed the card and specifically said that the gift was from his wife—she had crossed out the last part and written in that it was from him too), as well as a book from Angelina, some kind of candies from Luna and her father, a carnivorous rose contained in a bottle—both beautiful and frightening—from Neville, and a dragon claw from Charlie. With a pang, she remembered that her mum's presents had usually included sweets and a motherly letter, with her dad's sloppy but sincere signature and small note from him in the corner of their card. This was her first Christmas since they'd been completely obliviated and reduced to the state they were currently in.

When everyone met up downstairs there were shouts of thanks and hugs and kisses all over the place, causing chaos until Molly finally banged two iron pans together and got everyone to shut up. They all sat down and she served a large, delicious Christmas breakfast, and soon all of them were talking loudly, joking, smiling, and having a grand time again. But behind everyone's smile there was untold of pain. Everyone had lost someone in the war, and this was the first Christmas they were to spend without those people. Hermione knew that she wasn't the only person missing someone that morning. But she, along with the rest of them, did their best to see the bright side of things, and soon they were able to remember their lost loved ones with smiles at the good times spent with them rather than the sad.

Hermione stayed at the Burrow for a few hours after breakfast before she said goodbye to everyone and left the house, walking until she passed the protective boundaries and then apparating to the entrance to Saint Mungo's. She entered and was pleased to find things back to normal; the entrance area was still a bit chaotic but not half as bad as it had been the last time she was there. Her friends had offered to come with her, but she had wanted some time alone with her parents and had politely refused. They understood completely, and were happy to wait at the Burrow for her return. She was planning on spending the day at the hospital with her parents and then going back to the house in the afternoon sometime. She wasn't worried about lunch, as they'd eaten a late breakfast and all of them had consumed far too much food to get hungry for nearly the rest of the day. And if she didn't make it back for dinner Molly would always have set aside some of the meal for her to eat when she did get back.

Hermione hadn't even taken another step into the hospital when someone behind her who had just entered touched her shoulder. She turned to see who it was and jumped when she realized that she recognized the face. "Severus?" she stared at him in surprise.

He nodded and gave a smirk, but it was twisted strangely. Hermione looked him up and down and frowned; he looked anxious and uneasy.

"Is something the matter?"

He offered her his arm and said, "I needed to speak to you and knew that you would be here today, so I waited in the street with the muggles and watched for you."

She took his arm and said, "All right," still wondering what was wrong.

She started to walk in the direction of the lift to go to the floor and see her parents, but he steered her back towards the door. She looked at him questioningly and he said, "I don't have to take you if you don't want. We won't be long and then you can get to your parents." His words were sincere and his voice said that she was free to go to her parents and leave him there if she wanted, but his eyes were pleading with her to come with him. He still looked jumpy and nervous.

Hermione wanted to know what was wrong, and going with him meant that he would tell her and she could possibly ease his worries. Without a second glance at the lift and the people behind them, she nodded. "All right. Where are we going?"

He looked pleased with her choice, but still extremely nervous. "You'll see," he said before leading her back out the door. They stepped out onto the muggle street and he looked down at her before they disapparated. As they were enveloped by crushing, smothering darkness Hermione thought it over briefly. She had no idea where they were going or why, and what was wrong with Severus, she didn't know. But she trusted him completely, and whatever this was, she was sure that he would have a satisfactory explanation for her in the end.

Their feet touched firm ground and she opened her eyes, blinking in the sunlight. She looked around and stared in surprise; they were on the edge of a small open space between the trees in some forest. The trees were green and healthy, and grass was lush and looked cool, and the sky above was almost too blue to be real. She curled her arm around his and stepped closer to him, staring around in amazement. "Severus, where are we?"

She looked up into his face and saw that he had been watching her reaction carefully. That searching, questioning look was in his eyes again, and she had no idea that only a matter of moments later she would understand what his eyes were asking that his lips had failed to so far. He smirked at the awed expression on her face and said, "Not far from London. I came here once when I was a boy, and never wanted to leave once I'd seen it. It was a picnic with my mother, the only one we ever went on, and it was one of the best days of my life."

Hermione nodded and looked around again, trying to take it all in and also trying to spot every detail and memorize it. This place was indeed captivating, and she thought it was lovely. The temperature was cool, but comfortable, and it occurred to her that no place in England should be this nice in the middle of December. "It's beautiful," she breathed.

He seemed to read her mind and said, "There's a large square area of land here, bewitched to be forever a spring afternoon."

She smiled in response to this. Then she looked at him again and asked, "Did you have a blanket? On the picnic, I mean."

He nodded and led her out into the middle of the clearing. When they stopped he looked over her head at the forest around them and said, "It was here."

Hermione looked around again. From the middle of the clearing things were even more amazing and the forest and everything looked more beautiful than before. "It's amazing," she said, voicing her thoughts. She looked back to his face and he was looking down at her. Their eyes met and she silently asked why he had brought her here, though she certainly wasn't complaining.

They stared at each other for a few moments. Severus looked extremely nervous, panicky even now that she was asking what was going on.

But he looked calm compared to what he was actually feeling. He was suddenly thinking that this had all been a terrible idea and there was no way she would say yes and he ought to just take her back to Saint Mungo's and make up some excuse. But then there was his heart, beating quickly and pounding loudly as it was, telling him to follow through, to do what he had come for. There was a reason he had brought her here, and that reason was repeating itself over and again in his head. He had all of these thoughts in only a matter of seconds, and when his eyes focused once more and he found himself looking at Hermione, there was no turning back because he was convinced that he really did need to do this.

Hermione watched him. Several emotions passed over his face and then he focused on her again rather than his thoughts. She wondered what he was thinking and what was going through his mind. And why _had_ he brought her here?

She let go of his arm and stood on her own, still close to but not touching him. A lump started to form in her throat when he sank downwards. He wasn't on his knees as he had been when he came back to her room to admit that he loved her, but he was on one. He was kneeling on one knee. Hermione's mind was reeling. Was he really doing this with the intention that she was thinking or was she making assumptions? But no, now he was taking her hands in his and looking up into her face. And he looked very nervous again. The look was in his eyes, but she knew somehow that he was about to actually ask her the question that had been unspoken and silent for so very long. She couldn't breathe.

He stared into her eyes a moment longer, his hands shaking as he held hers. Hermione hadn't seen him so emotional and physically affected by anything since he came to her room to confess his love. She hadn't been awake to see how he was when he thought she had died.

He had planned what he would say, but now his mind went completely blank. He didn't remember what he'd decided he would say. He looked up at the beautiful young woman waiting for him, seemingly just as nervous as he was. And then words came. They weren't the words he had planned, but it didn't matter anymore because he knew that she would understand and wouldn't be upset with him for babbling.

"Hermione," he said quietly, remembering to breathe before he went on, "I love you. I need you. I will always need you. When you leave I can think of nothing but how much I want to be with you." He swallowed. This was the first time he'd spoken so openly of his emotions in years. "I don't want to live without you." He swallowed again, licked his lips, and opened his mouth to say more, but found that he couldn't.

Hermione looked down at him, waiting, but she wasn't annoyed by the pause; her eyes were wet and glistening, and she bit her lip as she waited. It was the act of biting her lip that allowed him to speak again.

He licked his lips again and this time when he opened his mouth he was able to make proper words come out. "I love you," he said again. "I can't offer you much more than that."

They stared at each other for a few precious, silent moments, and then he found his voice again. "Marry me."

Hermione took a deep breath and stared into his eyes. She nodded and took one of her hands from his grasp to cover her mouth and let out something caught between a laugh and a sob. Then she nodded again and he stood up, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "Yes," she said into his chest as she sniffed and wiped away the few tears that had escaped and were sliding down her cheeks. The tears were gone soon, though, and she was laughing into his shirt as he held her close. She sniffed again and he let her pull away enough to look up into his face.

She put her arms around his neck and they just stared at each other for a few timeless moments. Hermione bit her lip and Severus raised an eyebrow at her. "You are abusing your lip once more," he scolded lightly.

She stopped biting it, smiling, and raised an eyebrow in return. "I love you." But her eyes said more. Severus could see it plainly now. Her lips had only said three words, but her eyes clearly said that she wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life with him.

And then something happened that Hermione would never forget; Severus Snape smiled. Because of something she said. It was sincere and genuine and just as she'd always imagined and hoped it would be, when she at last made him smile. He actually looked quite handsome and attractive when he smiled like that. Hermione smiled back, laughing quietly at him, eyes shining. Then they both became more serious, though Hermione's lips twitched in a small, toothless smile where she didn't open her mouth and the corners of his mouth turned up just a bit. "I love you," he said.

Then he leaned down and she stood on her toes and they kissed.

When the kiss was over he held her close again, and then Severus remembered. It had been part of his plan, but having deserted that, he had forgotten about it. He let her stand on her own and leaned back slightly, and she watched him, wondering what he was doing. He reached into his robes and took a small velvet box from his pocket. He opened the box so that she couldn't see what was inside of it. "It was my mother's," he said, lifting a small silver ring with an emerald set in it. "A family heirloom, you would say," he said as he took her hand.

The ring looked miniscule in his large hand, but fit Hermione's slender finger perfectly. She bit her lip after he released her hand and then she turned it this way and that, looking at it and admiring the way that it glinted in the sunlight. "Severus, it's lovely," she breathed, looking back to his face. He smiled again. After the first time, it seemed easier for him to smile rather than smirk to show his pleasure over something. And he was obviously pleased that she liked the ring so much. Hermione threw her arms around his neck again and pressed her face into his chest, smiling widely. "Thank you."

He shook his head and put a finger under her chin so she looked at him. "No. Thank _you_."

She smiled and they stood and looked around at the beautiful place they were in for a few more moments before he offered her his arm. She knew they as soon as she took it, they would apparate back to the hospital. She smiled at him and took his arm, feeling as if she could walk on air if she tried.

They entered Saint Mungo's and went to the lift. Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder and they waited in silence, enjoying each other's presence. Severus had offered to leave her with some time alone with her parents, but she had asked him to walk with her to them before he left her. Perhaps it was a bit selfish, but she wanted time alone with her parents and also never wanted Severus to leave, especially not now.

He walked her to the entrance to the ward where her parents were with the rest of the people whose memories were gone or had been tampered with and would never recover. Then she let go of his arm. Now it was her who never wanted to see him leave. He smirked down at her for a moment before leaning down to kiss her. "I'll be back at the school tomorrow," she said breathlessly, more to reassure herself than him. He nodded and brushed a stray curl out of her face before he turned and walked away. Hermione wanted to run after him and stop him to kiss him again or at least feel his embrace, but she didn't. Rather, she turned and walked into the large open room where her parents were, along with Neville's.

She entered and was unsurprised to find Neville sitting in a chair between his parents' beds and talking to them. She walked up and he heard her footsteps and turned. He smiled when he saw her and stood up, walking to meet her. "Merry Christmas," he said, giving her a quick hug.

She laughed. "Merry Christmas, Neville!"

He studied her face for a moment and then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Wait, something's happened and you think it's just brilliant, I can tell," he said.

Hermione swallowed and nodded. She looked at the ground for a moment and then raised her gaze to meet his.

He shook his head. "Well?"

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded again. She bit her lip and then opened her mouth, but no words would come. How could she explain? She still had her mouth open, trying to speak, and eventually just lifted her left hand to where he could see it.

He glanced at it, spotted the ring, and froze. Then he leaned closer and looked at it. He swallowed, looking both nervous and happy. "S- Snape asked you . . .?" he asked, looking up at her with wide eyes.

She nodded again. "Yeah, he asked me."

Neville seemed to be coming to grips with the news pretty quickly and he was handling it surprisingly well. He nodded back. And then he smiled, genuinely happy for her. "When did he ask?"

Hermione sighed and smiled. "Not half an hour ago."

His eyes widened again and he glanced past her, but she shook her head. "He walked me to the door and then he left."

Neville nodded. He eyed the ring for a moment and then seemed to make up his mind that he was really, truly happy for her and Severus. "Congratulations," he said, smiling and hugging her again.

They talked for a few minutes and then parted ways. She went to her parents, telling them everything that had happened since she'd seen them last, ending with the news about her engagement and showing them her ring. Her dad took her hand and held it gently, gazing at the ring with shining eyes. Her mum just stared at it and smiled, clapping her hands together in delight. Hermione couldn't have been more pleased with their reactions to the news.

She spent a few moments outside of the hospital entrance talking to Neville about his Christmas with his grandmother and then the Lovegoods. Then they parted ways again, smiling at each other before disapparating to two different places.

Hermione hit the ground running and was inside the Weasley house before she knew what she was doing. "Ginny!" she squealed, unable to act maturely anymore. Everyone came downstairs at her desperate yell, and Ginny ran up and looked worried.

"What? What is it? Hermione, what?" she looked almost hysterical with worry, grabbing Hermione's shoulders and looking desperately into her friend's face.

Hermione started to laugh, tears filling her eyes, and held up her hand, showing them the ring. She only just jumped forward and grabbed Ginny before the younger witch shrieked and jumped up and down and screamed before collapsing in a fit of giggles. Hermione, however, was no help to Ginny, as she only shrieked and giggled and collapsed as well. Everyone else stood around, staring down at the two girls hugging and shrieking on the floor, smiling and laughing while tears ran down their cheeks.

Harry eventually stepped forward and helped the two up, grabbing their hands and pulling them to their feet. He inspected Hermione's ring with interest, and then everyone else looked at it. They all seemed a bit too shocked to comment, but Ginny was still crying. And because she was crying, Hermione was crying too. As soon as everyone had seen the ring, Hermione and her best friend hugged again and starting giggling once more.

Eventually the laughter and hysterics subsided and Hermione was able to tell the story to everyone, who was waiting and wondering what had happened after Hermione left the Burrow. Ron looked particularly sour during the story and after, but everyone else smiled and congratulated her. Harry hugged her and nodded to her. He grinned and said, "Congratulations."

Hermione smiled, wiping tears from her eyes as she looked at him. "Thanks."

Then she hugged him again before she and Ginny ran up the stairs to Ginny's room to talk more about it all. Ginny had stars in her eyes, obviously dreaming about the day that Harry would propose to her, and she asked Hermione to tell the story over and again as if she were a child begging her grandparent to retell a happening of his younger years.

That night Hermione fell asleep, her fingertips brushing the emerald on the ring that Severus had given her. She would marry him. She would take his name. He had asked her. He had poured out his heart and told her things that no one but him had ever known. He loved her. And she loved him. _Hermione Snape, _she thought to herself, a smile parting her lips as she drifted off.

**All right, here it is, one of the big chapters! How did you like it? Do tell! I'll love you forever if you review! Please, if you have a moment, tell me what you think. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and hope you enjoyed reading it as much! I have some more big things planned for future chapters, so keep checking for daily updates! Thank you all for reading. I love you all so very, very much! ~Taelr**


	26. Goodnight

Hermione and Ginny pulled out their wands and got rid of the soot on each other's robes. They were in Hermione's office, having only just flooed there from the Burrow. It had been an excellent Christmas for both of them, and they smiled at each other as they tucked their wands away again. Kreacher had moved their things back to their rooms so they were free of luggage.

They linked arms and left the office, headed for the Great Hall. They would be just in time to make it to their tables for dinner. They stepped into the Great Hall and split up, Ginny heading to the Gryffindor table while Hermione walked past all the student tables and made her way to the staff table. She sank into her chair beside Severus, who was smirking in the direction of the Slytherin students once again. As soon as she sat he turned and looked at her. He didn't smile, but his smirk vanished. Hermione wanted him to hold her, pull her into his arms, but knew that it wouldn't be wise to behave so in front of students.

The meal seemed to go rather quickly, with Hermione and Ginny exchanging glances constantly throughout the meal. Ginny was bursting to tell the other girls at the Gryffindor table, Hermione could tell, but she had promised to keep quiet about it wait until people noticed Hermione's ring. When the meal was over the students started to leave and some of the staff members did as well. Pomona and Neville came up to see how she was after her holiday, and Neville kept quiet about his knowledge of the engagement like Ginny did. Hermione thanked him with her eyes and he grinned before he walked away. Severus rose from his seat and watched the students filing out of the Great Hall.

Minerva walked up to Hermione and asked how her holiday had been.

"It was wonderful," Hermione said, smiling. "And yours?"

The headmistress smiled. "It was as usual; few students around to watch and a bit of free time away from classes and some of the normal responsibilities."

Hermione nodded.

Minerva smiled again and excused herself. "I need to speak to Filius," she said, and turned to the half-goblin.

Hermione turned away from the table, seeing that Severus was talking to another group of staff, and started walking towards the large doors to leave the Great Hall. She hadn't gone far when Minerva remembered that she hadn't said all she wanted to. Hurrying to catch up to her young colleague, the headmistress was only a few steps behind and reached out, touching Hermione's arm. "I had nearly forgotten," she said, "When classes begin again you will-" she stopped mid-sentence, staring at Hermione's left hand.

When the younger witch had turned around, the light had caught the emerald on her ring and drawn the headmistress' eyes. Hermione stood, knowing that the ring had been spotted and not having a clue as to what she ought to expect Minerva's reaction to be. The headmistress continued to stare at the ring for another moment before her eyes flew to Hermione's face. "Severus?" she asked softly, sounding as if she was too shocked to use her usual, authoritive voice.

Hermione nodded, nervously biting her lip and giving a small smile.

The headmistress looked around the Great Hall. All of the students had left and only a few staff members—including Severus—were still at the table, standing around and talking. Hermione jumped and stepped back in surprise when Minerva whipped around and boomed, "Severus Snape!"

The talking at the staff table ceased, and everyone turned to look at Hermione and Minerva. Hermione was speechless; it appeared that the headmistress had just lost her usually perfect composure.

"In my office, immediately, Severus!" she said just, nearly yelling because she was talking so loudly.

Hermione swallowed, she felt suddenly very afraid of the witch standing beside her. Why did she seem so upset?

The two women waited in the middle of the Great Hall while Severus walked to them, taking long strides and looking calm. Hermione found no solace in the fact that he looked completely collected, knowing his talent at masking his emotions. She knew her face wasn't exactly the picture of composure, and that was enough to make her nervous. Severus reached them and stopped, looking down at the headmistress. "Is something the matter, Minerva?" he asked coolly.

Without a word, Minerva took a deep breath and turned her back on them, walking towards the large doors. They followed in silence. Hermione glanced at Severus, and he was looking back. His expression was serious, and he didn't seem in the least bit perturbed by the headmistress' behavior. Hermione searched his face, but found nothing that was either reason to feel comfort or panic, so she settled for looking serene and unruffled as he did.

She led them to her office, and they entered, deciding not to sit before her desk. She didn't go behind it to sit down, but instead turned to face them as soon as they were in her office and the door was closed. Hermione looked from one to the other. Severus raised an eyebrow at Minerva, still looking calm. "Do tell what the excitement is," he drawled lazily after a moment. Hermione watched their faces, eyes darting back and forth between them.

Minerva took a deep breath. "I knew you had _mild_ affections for one another, but never did I imagine that you would actually . . ." she trailed off, her gaze resting on Hermione's left hand again.

"Mild affections," Severus repeated, looking amused. "Minerva, I did say I _loved_ her, did I not?"

The headmistress was still staring avidly at the ring on Hermione's finger. She didn't look up, but did answer. "You did," she said simply. "However, I admit I didn't think it was something that would last . . ."

Severus looked more amused than before. "You doubt my ability to be affectionate," he said. It was more a statement than a question.

Minerva said nothing for a moment, though her face confirmed his words. "Perhaps I was mistaken," she began again, "but this is truly ridiculous! Before, it was only strange and unusual. As I said, I assumed it would end rather quickly. But I had no idea that you actually loved . . ." she looked up at Hermione's face and studied her for a moment. She pursed her lips, seeming to come to a decision. "This is preposterous. Both of you know it won't do. You are both being absurd by suggesting that I would just allow you to do something so ludicrous and unreasonable."

She looked from Severus to Hermione. Neither of her colleagues reacted the way she wanted. She sighed and looked at Hermione again. It wasn't that she had anything against love, and there was nothing lawfully wrong about their wanting to be married, but . . . she couldn't just let this happen. Minerva was thinking fast. Her mind was reeling. There had to be something, some way to keep them apart. She didn't want to cause hurt or split up a relationship, but Hermione was still so young! She had only just turned eighteen a few months before, and was hardly old enough to know what true love was. And even if it was acceptable for an eighteen-year-old to marry, Severus was twice her age! He was old enough to be her own father!

And Hermione was the brightest witch of her age. She deserved an intellectual young man who would live as long as she would and who could offer her a good life. Not that she had anything against Severus, but she had seen his home in Spinner's End before. It was horrid and dark and just not right for a young woman to call home. And he wasn't paid much, even with his jobs as a professor and brewing potions for others than just the school. He might be one of the best potion masters Minerva had ever seen, but he was given far too small a salary to truly give Hermione the things she would want. Then again . . . Minerva studied Hermione's face again. But no, she was young and foolish and would believe that she and Severus could get by on love alone. She knew nothing of the real world yet . . .

"Minerva," Severus broke the silence and the headmistress' train of thought, "While I'm _flattered_ that you are so bent on finding something legal to use against us, I'm afraid you'll be unsuccessful. And while I do feel privileged to receive your insulting my name and myself by not believing that I can provide for Hermione, I would like it to stop."

"This is madness," Minerva said, looking desperately between them. "Hermione," she looked to the younger witch, "You have your whole life ahead of you. You can do great things, change the wizarding world. But not if you choose _this_"—she glanced at Severus—"life."

Hermione frowned. "Please," she said, actually looking a bit amused herself. "I can do all of those things and more if I choose _that_ life," and she turned and smiled at Severus. Before the headmistress could say more she went on, "And I am old enough to make my own decisions, thank you. I know what I'm doing," and she held up her hand, displaying the ring.

Minerva looked pleadingly at the young woman who had once been her student. "Hermione," she said again.

"I won't be wasted potential, either," Hermione cut in before the older witch could say more.

Severus raised his eyebrows, watching the two women. Now they were having a silent battle, Minerva begging and pleading with her eyes for Hermione to stop what was happening, and Hermione giving a firm refusal with hers. At last Minerva seemed to give up. She sighed and turned to the portrait of Dumbledore on the wall. He had watched the entire argument with an interested expression on his face. "Albus, convince them. Convince her," the headmistress said pleadingly, waving at hand at the portrait and walking behind her desk to sit down. She looked at them as if she were suddenly very tired.

Hermione and Severus looked at the portrait. "Severus," he said, looking to the potions master first. "You love her?"

Severus looked amused, but nodded once, his eyebrows arched as he tilted his chin.

Dumbledore's penetrating blue eyes flashed to Hermione. "And you?"

Hermione didn't know why, but she found herself smiling. "I love him."

The portrait Dumbledore nodded. He scrutinized them for another moment before saying, "Then congratulations! When is the date for the wedding?"

Hermione was so surprised she clapped a hand over her mouth and Severus raised his eyebrows again.

Minerva stood up suddenly. "Albus!" she screeched, obviously furious and shocked.

He turned and looked at her, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose and looking over them at her. "I _tried_, Minerva," he said despairingly. "Alas, they cannot be swayed."

Hermione put another hand over her mouth to suppress the sudden urge to giggle.

Minerva lifted her hands and rubbed her temples. She sighed. Then she looked at the two people in her office. "Please, both of you, think this over before you do anything _drastic_." She addressed them both but looked pointedly at Hermione. Then she waved a hand dismissively at them and sat down at her desk, looking over some papers.

Hermione looked at Severus, who offered his arm. She took it, smiling at him, and they walked out of the office together. They walked back to the teachers' lounge and Severus walked her to her door. There was no one else in the lounge, so she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, not quite so much that she was unable to breathe but still holding her tight. When he let go enough for her to look up at him, she stared at him for a moment. "Kiss me?"

He raised an eyebrow, amused by the pleading look in her eyes, and obliged.

She started to open her door and stopped, looking over the new carving in her door for the first time. Severus watched her expression carefully. She seemed awed and thrilled by the beautiful doe now bounding where her otter had once swam. She seemed lost in her own world as she lifted her hand, tracing the intricate details of the carving with a finger. Unbeknownst to him, she was thinking back to the day that she had first seen his patronus, when she had been sitting with Crookshanks and had run to his room, wondering what the matter was as he was still recovering. She was both amused and abhorred by the memory of having to use magic to lift Severus from the bathtub. Of course, she hadn't seen anything other than his back and then his torso, but the thought of it still brought a considerable amount of color to her face.

Severus noticed this and then it occurred to him what she must be thinking of. When she looked back to him her face was still rather red and he arched an eyebrow. She saw that he knew what she'd been thinking of and blushed even deeper. He looked down at her, amused by how mortified she seemed.

In spite of the fact that he knew what she was thinking of, and she knew it, he asked, "Remembering past times when I loathed your very existence, are you?"

Her face was scarlet. She looked down at the ground, but the color in her cheeks didn't fade and the burning sensation in them didn't either. She looked back up when he pressed a hand against her cheek, drawing back and then feeling her forehead. "You seem rather warm. Do you feel well?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm fine."

He smirked at her. "I daresay you're ailing."

Hermione frowned at him, and to her relief, her face began turning back to its normal color. "I _daresay_ I am not."

He put his hand on her cheek again and continued smirking. "Now your skin has cooled. Perhaps you _are_ fine."

Hermione shook her head at him. "You're dreadful," she muttered as she hugged him.

He chuckled and said, "Indeed I am," before putting his arms around her and pulling her in again. He kissed the top of her head then and released her, stepping away.

"Goodnight," Hermione said, opening her door.

"Goodnight," he replied, walking to his own rooms after she had disappeared into hers.

The next morning Hermione was seated at her desk when the first class of the day—Slytherin sixth years—came in. She smiled at them, as usual, and they glared back, as usual. A few of them smiled back or smirked, but not very many liked her. She stood up and looked over her students. She surprised them all when instead of starting class as they normally did, she asked how their Christmas had been. Because it was a group of Slytherin students, only the few who had smiled at her dared to raise a hand and talk briefly about something in particular that made their holiday grand.

She clasped her hands in front of her most of the time, smiling as she waited for them to tell about their experience. When no other hands flew into the air, she asked them to open their books and read along as she spoke. She didn't need her own book to read out of, as she'd memorized every word that the author had written and could quote it without flaw. She folded her arms as she spoke, leaning back against her desk and addressing her students. She failed to realize that her left hand was showing when she did this and whoever looked up from their book at her found their eyes drawn to something that caught the light, something on her finger.

There was an audible gasp from the back of the room when one of the students realized what they were looking at, but when Hermione looked in the direction that the sound had come from, all of the students in that area were looking around as if they didn't know who it was. Hermione knew that one of them was guilty and that the others were doing him or her a rare favor by keeping them concealed. "Is something the matter?" she asked, looking from one student to the next in that corner of the room.

No one said anything or answered her. She gazed around the room, making eye contact with each student before her, and then shrugged and went back into her lecture after telling them once again to read along. She noticed that it was a more common occurrence for a student to lift his or her head and look at her than before but didn't guess the reason for this immediately. Rather, it took her until nearly the end of class, still quoting the book, to realize why they were behaving so.

As soon as class was over they all grabbed their things and most of them walked quickly from the room, whispering and muttering among themselves and throwing glances back at Hermione over their shoulders. She ignored them; shocked and surprised reactions were to be expected when they saw that she was wearing a ring and realized that she must be engaged.

Throughout the rest of the day Slytherins were glaring at her and glowering even more viciously than before. It seemed that the word of her engagement to Severus had spread through their house like wildfire and not one of them was ignorant of the new installment in their relationship. The Hufflepuffs caught wind of things from the Slytherins and by the end of the day, the entire school was buzzing with the news. And it seemed that students—mostly Slytherin, Hermione suspected—were being less that quiet about their new knowledge when around the other staff members.

She heard, by way of listening to the students' whispers and mutterings, that Hufflepuff had lost fifty points in a single class because the three girls who loved Hermione and Severus' love for each other hadn't been able to keep themselves quiet or focus on their potions while in class. Hermione smiled to herself as she graded papers, her quill scratching along the parchment as she did. Severus was probably furious that the news had caused problems with his teaching, but then again he was never exactly completely pleased with his students, either.

That night in the Great Hall there was more of a hum of talk than usual from the students and it took a few seconds after Minerva stood to address them for quiet to come. The staff had all been trying to glance covertly at Hermione's ring, but they were failing because she and Severus were aware of every single stare his present for her received from their colleagues. When the meal was over it seemed that Pomona was the only one of the staff members who was unafraid of directly addressing the situation, and she walked right up to Hermione and asked if she could look at the ring. Hermione nodded and held out her hand, which the older witch took and inspected carefully.

"It is a beautiful thing," she said, her eyes returning to Hermione's face. She leaned closer, eyeing Severus, who was standing only a few paces behind Hermione, and asked, "Are you sure you want this? Marriage? So young, and with _Severus_ of all people?"

Her questions were direct but her voice made it clear that she wasn't judging Hermione either way. "I'm sure," Hermione said in return.

Pomona nodded and sighed, looking slightly crestfallen, but smiled and stepped away to speak to Filius. Neville walked up and looked at her. They held each other's gaze for a moment before he said, "I'm happy for you, if this is what you want."

Hermione nodded and smiled. "Thanks Neville."

Severus came up and offered her his arm, and she took it, smiling again at Neville before she and Severus walked out of the Great Hall and down to the teachers' quarters. They stopped, as usual, outside of Hermione's door. Hermione glanced around the room. Sybill Trelawney was seated at the desk in the corner of the room, but she seemed quite wrapped up in reading signs in the tealeaves at the bottom of her cup.

Hermione hugged Severus and he pulled her close. "Goodnight," he said quietly into her hair.

She sighed into his chest, turning her face to look up at him. "I hate saying goodnight," she whispered.

He smirked, looking amused. "And why is that?"

Hermione smirked back before she bit her lip. "Because in a way, it's like saying goodbye."

He frowned at her. "It _is_ saying goodbye," he said quietly, "but only for the night."

Hermione buried her face in his chest again and took a deep breath, losing herself momentarily in his scent, the very thing about him that had first enticed and attracted her to him.

Severus buried his nose in her unruly curls and heaved a sigh just as she did.

Hermione smiled at this, and he smirked. Hermione glanced at Sybill to be sure she wasn't watching them and then stood on her toes to kiss Severus. Even on tiptoe and clinging to the front of his cloak to pull herself up, her lips barely reached his. He leaned down, allowing her to relinquish her hold on his cloak and put her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

Severus tensed, sensing that Sybill was moving from her place at the desk, and broke the kiss, but didn't take his arms from around Hermione. He didn't look at the divination teacher, staring into Hermione's eyes instead and losing himself there. She had the most beautiful, dark brown, bright and shining eyes that were like a mixture of chocolate and honey. He had no idea that at the same time as he was thinking these things, she was admiring his eyes, knowing that her own eyes were light in color compared to how dark and beautiful Severus' were.

They were taken back to reality when a voice said from an uncomfortably close place near them, "I predicted this, you know," causing Hermione to jump. Severus had known Sybill was making her way towards them and was mildly irked by her presence. He was rather annoyed that she had interrupted such a perfect moment.

Severus stared her down, and she blinked enormously magnified eyes behind her large, thick glasses. "Did you?" he asked, sounding completely bored.

Sybill apparently completely overlooked or failed to notice his tone of voice and uninterested facial expression. "Yes," she said, sounding rather pleased with herself.

Hermione had been a bit too shocked at first to pull away from Severus, and now she just didn't care what Sybill thought. This was the professor at the school who had only taught Hermione for one year because Hermione had traded classes at the first opportunity. Divination was such a load of rubbish. "When did you predict it?" she asked, sounding much more polite and interested than she intended.

Sybill looked proud of herself. "Quite a while ago, dear, though I wouldn't expect you to understand such important things as predicting future events."

"Of course not," Hermione said, looking sagely at the older witch. "And what, exactly, was your prediction?"

Sybill stuck her nose in the air and said, "I foresaw that two of the staff here would develop a close relationship."

"Oh," Hermione said, deciding she liked the idea of messing with the head of the fraudulent witch in front of her. "Well then you must have foreseen me and Neville, then."

Sybill's eye twitched. "What?" she jerked her head in Hermione's direction, having been gazing dramatically at the wall.

"Neville and I," Hermione repeated. Then she explained, "We were friends before the war, but since he's become part of the staff he and I have become close friends."

The divination teacher looked speechless for a moment, struck dumb by Hermione's correction of her prediction. She muttered something about feeling the sight urging her to sit down so that she could see something important and turned away, hurrying in the direction of her room and closing her door loudly behind her.

When Hermione looked back to Severus he was smirking. "Well done," he said, causing her to laugh. She was getting used to his often dry humor and finding it rather funny nowadays.

Severus was leaning down to kiss her again when the door to the lounge opened. He straightened and nodded to her, looking irked at the untimely arrival of most of the other staff. He released Hermione and took a step away from her, much to her distaste, but it was a good move because when Pomona, Filius, Neville, Rolanda Hooch, and Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank entered they eyed the two of them suspiciously. Rather, Neville was the only one who didn't look suspicious. He just grinned at Hermione, nodded nervously to Severus, and headed for his door.

Severus waited until the lounge was empty again and kissed Hermione's head, bidding her goodnight before he watched her enter her rooms and then went to his own.

Hermione went to her bedroom and changed, sitting on the edge of her bed and petting Crookshanks. She conjured a silver doe for him to play with and watched them frolicking together through her quarters. She lost interest in watching them soon enough though, and sighed, longing for the day when she and Severus would say goodnight but wouldn't be in separate places after that, or wouldn't bid each other goodnight at all. As she had said earlier, she hated saying goodnight. Perhaps when they were married she would ask him to never say it to her again . . .

Hermione knew that she'd only been engaged for two days, but already it felt like an eternity away that they would be married. And when would they? Severus had never mentioned a date or suggested a time of year, and she was clueless about how long he wanted to wait before their wedding. She turned out the lights and smiled when Crookshanks could be seen bounding towards the bed, his fur shining and reflecting the light of the patronus trotting beside him. When he jumped into the bed and curled up beside Hermione the doe disappeared into the darkness and only the dying embers of the fire lit the rooms.

Hermione laid back and stared into the darkness, imagining what it would be like to sleep beside Severus all night. Not talking, not even moving, just resting and knowing that he was there, feeling safe and satisfied in his presence. Knowing as she fell asleep that he would be there in the morning, perhaps even resting her head on his shoulder or his chest, and he might have his arms around her . . .

She drifted off, dreaming about what life would be like as Mrs. Severus Snape.

**I haven't got much to say other than to ask you to please review if you have a moment. Thanks again to you all for reading my story and to everyone who has reviewed in the past, thank you, thank you, thank you! It means the world to me when you review. Any questions, comments, advice or corrections are more than welcome! Love you all! ~Taelr**


	27. Don't Go

Hermione opened her eyes and blinked in surprise; Severus was leaning over her, looking concerned. She tried to sit up or smile at him or lift her hand to brush his cheek, but found that her muscles felt as if they were on fire. She took a deep breath, trying to relax. Even smiling hurt, but she forced herself to in spite of the pain.

Looking past his face, she saw a white ceiling and bright, glowing white orbs floating near it. She frowned at this, but let the muscles in her face relax because they hurt. The ceiling and the orbs were familiar, but they weren't her rooms. In fact, she suddenly knew that she wasn't in Hogwarts at all. Severus was still leaning over her, looking as if he hadn't slept in a while.

She felt his fingers encircle her hand, and was relieved by how cool his skin felt against hers. She saw a muscle in his jaw tighten when he touched her. "You are burning up."

She blinked at him. She knew where she was. "Why are we in Saint Mungo's?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

In reply, he asked, "What do you remember?"

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, thinking back. What _did_ she remember? "Class was over," she began, speaking her thoughts as she mentally went back to the last thing she knew before waking up there in the hospital. "I was walking to the Great Hall for dinner, and I knew I was going to be late because I'd spent too much time grading homework."

He gazed into her eyes steadily, not blinking. "Anything else?"

Hermione stared at him. She bit her lip and didn't notice when it hurt. "I . . ." she started, then stopped as she thought over it again. "I was in one of the corridors near my classroom when someone yelled something behind me and . . . and it hurt, and then . . . then there was _nothing_. What happened?" she asked, though she doubted he could give an answer.

"You didn't show for dinner," he said, sighing. "I assumed you were busy with homework and didn't think anything of it until you didn't turn up in the lounge and then didn't answer when I knocked on your door. So I went in the direction of your classroom, expecting to find you there, but you weren't. I'd taken the way straight from the lounge, but it occurred to me that you walked to the Great Hall and back a different way, so I went to see, though I couldn't have expected what I found."

Hermione frowned. "What did you find?"

He shook his head, refusing to answer. Instead, he said, "Minerva and I are convinced it was a student."

"A student," she repeated. She was too preoccupied to notice that the longer she was awake, the less her skin and muscles burned.

He saw that she didn't understand and supplied, "You were attacked."

"By a student?" Hermione asked, disbelieving.

"The students from my house loath me more enthusiastically than usual, due to the fact that I took several hundred points from them."

"Several hundred?" she looked up at him and frowned. He was smirking.

"There is no doubt in my mind that it was a Slytherin who attacked you. It is hardly flattering, but they rather despise you, my love."

Even in such circumstances, a thrill ran through Hermione when Severus called her that.

She smiled at him and asked sarcastically, "A death eater's son or daughter, perhaps?"

She was surprised when he nodded gravely. "I believe so. Though it is unclear which one it was, and unfortunately the children of the dark lord's servants have learned a few of their parents' tricks; all of them have the antidote to veritaserum and none can be tricked into speaking."

Hermione nodded, noticing now that her muscles didn't hurt anymore. "Maybe it's a good thing you won't figure out who did it," she mused.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "And how is that?"

She smirked. "I would fear for the student if they were left to your wrath and punishment. I have the feeling you would be a bit less than lenient with him or her for what they did."

He actually chuckled. "Indeed."

His hand curled more tightly around hers, and she squeezed him back with her fingers. He changed the subject then. "You are cooling."

Hermione nodded. "Will you help me sit up?"

He nodded, doing as she asked and propping her up against her pillows. "The healers said you would cool and the burning cease not long after you woke," he said.

She looked around the hospital room, noting the bed across from her, where a witch with fur all over her arms was sleeping. "How long before I can get back to Hogwarts and start teaching again?" she asked.

Severus raised an eyebrow. Then he actually gave her one of his rare, genuine smiles. "You were in pain only moments ago, woke up not half an hour before now, and already you can think of nothing but returning to the school?" He brushed a hair out of her face. "Have you no desire for anything but education, whether it be your own or that of your students?"

Hermione smiled at him. She stared into his eyes for a moment before musing, "I desire only one thing above education."

He raised his eyebrows. "Shocking. Do tell what that might be."

She bit her lip for a moment before smiling again. "You."

He smirked, but looked rather pleased.

She enjoyed the beautiful, dark brown colour of his eyes for a moment before asking, "Now can we get out of here yet?"

He sighed and took her other hand so that he was holding both of hers. "Let's see whether you can walk before we talk about leaving, shall we?"

Hermione shrugged and eagerly scooted towards the edge of the bed, leaning on him for only a moment before pulling out of his grasp and stepping back, away from him. She put her hands on her hips and smirked at him. "There, I can walk and stand on my own. Can we go now?"

He shook his head at her but offered her his arm, and they walked down to the main floor to tell the witch at the desk that Hermione was leaving. They made it to the entrance of the hospital and stepped out onto the muggle street, disapparating back to the school.

Severus watched Hermione with interest. She was already better and healed from being attacked, but the attack itself worried him; he knew death eaters and their children much better than she did, and he knew that there was every reason to believe that something of this sort could and most likely would happen again. He didn't let on how concerned he was, and she didn't seem to have the same suspicions as he did about the Slytherin students. He hadn't told her what the Slytherin common room had been like after he'd found Hermione and taken her to Madam Pomfrey. He'd gone straight there to find out who had attacked her, but all hell had already broken loose in the common room in the dungeon. Students were shouting, the majority of their house on one side of the room and the rest on the other, wands drawn, yelling hexes and curses and charms and dodging those that came their way.

He'd put a stop to it and found that the smaller group of students had taken sides with Hermione. One of those rare young people who were loyal to her even though she was a Gryffindor had caught wind of the attack on her and as a result he attacked the student responsible. After that students had taken sides; _with_ Hermione and her group of _Gryffindor Pets,_ as they'd been called, or _against_ them.

Severus had managed to sort out who had first made an advance on the attacker and had scolded him but not taken points from him or given him detention, though he probably should have for attacking a fellow student. Even the one who had defied Hermione's attacker, though, refused to tell who the culprit was. At this point all of Slytherin house had banded together and not told Severus who the guilty student was. Severus had taken a great number of points for them for not obeying his order to tell who it was, and then taken a great many more for the attack itself and for the fight that went on between them, though he named only those he had seen on the side of the room who were against Hermione and loyal to her attacker.

The students had obviously sensed that their head of house would be positively furious with whoever had attacked Hermione at had then—no matter which side they were on during the wand fight—decided to be loyal to their house rather than their teacher. This had made Severus furious, and after deducting points and sentencing most of them to detention he had stormed back up to the hospital wing to see what Poppy Pomfrey had to say about Hermione. The curse that the student had used was a dark one, and Poppy had said that it was best to take Hermione to Saint Mungo's just to be safe.

Severus had hoped that once the curse was identified he could link it to one of the now-dead death eaters that he had once worked with if they had used it often and he had known about it. However, the curse was a dark and commonly-used one among the death eaters so any of their children could have learned it from a parent and decided to use it on their least favorite teacher. Severus had known that she was in no mortal danger but a considerable amount of pain and had taken her immediately, leaving Poppy on her way to Minerva's office to inform her of the attack.

Hermione had been unconscious for only a matter of hours, and that was due mostly to the effects of the treatment and potion that the healers had given her. It was now almost midnight as they entered the school, walking through the dark entrance hall and down a spiral staircase towards the dungeon. Both of them knew the way well. Severus had been informed that he was to take Hermione back to her room to rest as soon as she was well and there would be time for talk with the headmistress about what had happened the following day.

They stepped into her room and closed the door. He reminded her, "Minerva would be perfectly capable of teaching in your place should you want to spend a day recovering."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Recovering? Severus, I have students who need me."

He frowned and growled, "It's apparent at least one of them doesn't think so."

She smirked at him. "And since when have I started listening to him or her, hmm?"

He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak but she lifted a hand to stop him.

"I know you're concerned," she said. Then she grabbed his cloak and stood on her toes, her face now close to his. "Thank you for caring," and then she leaned in, kissing him lightly before pulling away. "But I'm not resigning just because of one or two rebellious students who don't see me as an ally."

He smirked at her. "You're going to kill them with kindness," he said. It wasn't a question as much as it was a statement.

She nodded, smirking back. "Of course."

He shook his head, searching her face. Where was the source of her seemingly infinite patience with everyone around her? She was so forgiving, so willing to forget everyone's past and let them show her their true selves in the present. She would give almost anyone a second chance. She had given Severus one after all. Would her ability to love those who had hurt her ever fail her? Severus looked deep into her eyes, raising an eyebrow to ask where her patience came from.

She didn't see the question in his eyes, but was able to lose herself in the colour of them.

They were silent for a moment, and then he said, "You'll love them in spite of their behavior towards you."

She nodded. "I will."

He stared into her eyes. "Just as you loved me."

She smiled but said nothing, agreeing with her eyes alone.

He shook his head lightly. "They do not deserve your patience or your love."

Hermione bit her lip and inclined her head, agreeing. "Some of them do. And the others will learn to accept that I will forgive them no matter what they do."

Thinking over everything that had happened between him and the young woman standing in front of him, Severus looked away. "But they could earn the trust that you will give them whether you should or not."

Hermione tilted her head to the side. "They could," she granted. She was still staring into his face, though he was still looking away. Why was he looking away? Before she could ask what was wrong he spoke.

"I will never deserve your patience, your love, or your forgiveness," he said.

"Severus," she started to scold quietly, but he went on.

"I can never earn the right to claim your forgiveness, your love, or your patience."

"That's not true," she said softly.

His eyes flashed and he met her gaze. "Even if I didn't have my past to haunt me, to give you reason to hate me," he said, his voice growing thicker with each word, "I have failed you in every way."

"Lies," she whispered.

"No," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "It's true. I have failed you. In every way possible."

Hermione saw that he wasn't going to let it go and gave in, though she still had a mind to put a stop to this unreasonable remorse on his part. "How have you failed me?" she asked.

He stared deep into her eyes. His gaze was intense and hard, though his eyes were dark brown and told of his love for her. "I hurt you. I lied to you, broke you, put you through hell. I lost you. I was unable to protect you. It wasn't me that saved you in the Chamber. It was because of another man's actions that you survived that night. And even now, when there are no longer death eaters who are free and searching for me and threatening you, there are still _others_ who hurt you. I was not there when whichever of them it was attacked you. The student was the son or daughter of one or perhaps two of the dark lord's servants. He or she could have killed you. And where was I? Sitting in the Great Hall at a table, having disregarded your absence and enjoying my own meal while you were being attacked!"

Hermione watched him, though she didn't flinch when he balled his fists and clenched his jaw after he had spoken. She had heard him raise his voice very rarely, over hardly anything. And he seemed deeply affected, disturbed and marked by his accusations toward himself. She took a deep breath. He was looking away from her again. How long had he been torturing himself with such thoughts? Days? Weeks? Months, even?

"Severus," she said quietly, putting her hand on his cheek and turning his head back to face her. It took a moment, but at last his eyes met hers. She shook her head gently. "None of that is true."

He was trembling, and she was afraid. Not of him or what he might do, but rather of what he was doing to himself. He was tearing himself apart from the inside out, and she knew it.

"It is," he growled, his voice harsher than he intended. But when he searched her face for the shock and the hurt she should be feeling after his words, he found only the same ever-present love and patience, forgiveness. The things he had never deserved and never would. "Why?" he asked hoarsely.

Hermione blinked. "Why?" she repeated, not comprehending his meaning.

He swallowed, looking deep into her eyes. "Why?" he asked again. "Why do you love me? How? How can you? After every mistake you know I've made, every failure, every fault, every _thing_ I've ever done? I served the most powerful dark wizard in the country, in the world!" He was growling now, speaking through clenched teeth, trembling violently. "I killed people," he said, clenching and unclenching his fists as he stared at Hermione, "And not just men. I killed women, children, innocent people! Muggles, witches, wizards, half bloods, muggle-borns, anyone _he_ wanted me to."

Hermione shook her head at him, tears pooling in her eyes. What kind of hell must he go through every day, reliving these things? Living with the kind of regret that would never leave, that would haunt him forever?

"You turned away from that life," she said calmly, though a tear escaped and slid down her cheek. "You didn't go back. You were a spy for Dumbledore. You saved Harry, Ron and I countless times. Severus, you are a _good_ _man_."

But now he was shaking his head slowly. "I killed Albus," he said calmly, steadily, though his voice was still thick with emotion.

"Severus, what was it that saved you? Why did you leave Voldemort?" Hermione asked, desperate to get a point across.

He had looked away, but his eyes flashed to hers again. "Lily," he said.

Hermione nodded. She stepped forward, cupping his face in her hands and looking up at him as several more tears rolled down her cheeks. "Severus, why did you leave Voldemort for Lily?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"I loved her," he said hoarsely.

Hermione nodded again as more tears fell. "You loved her. _Love_, Severus. Love is the reason you left _that_ life and became the man you are today. Love is the reason I can forgive you, forget your past, and embrace the man you are at the present, the man who I _love_ with everything I have."

He stared down at her, searching her face. He would never understand why she loved him, or how she could. And what she saw in him, he would never grasp or comprehend. But as she put her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his shoulder, clinging to him as if her life depended on never letting go, he accepted that he would never know. He would have to live without understanding, and that was all right. He lifted trembling arms and encircled her with them, pulling her closer. He rested his chin on top of her head, closing his eyes.

Hermione clung to him. He was still trembling, so much that she was shaking in his embrace. She looked up at him, and he gazed down into her face. "When I see you, I see a good man, someone with a past, yes, a history of mistakes. But everyone has made mistakes, Severus. Everyone."

"Not mistakes like the ones I made," he said hoarsely.

She moved her hand to his cheek and stared intently into his eyes. "Our mistakes are not what define us; it's what we learn from them and how we go on after we've made them that does."

They stared at each other, lost for another timeless moment in one another's eyes.

"I love you," Hermione said firmly.

Severus smirked. "I am painfully aware."

She rolled her eyes. "It's not so terrible as you think, you know, me loving you. I do _love_ you, and I hate that you of all people think it a mistake I'm making."

He sighed. "I do not think it a mistake; I simply can see no reason for someone like you to love anyone like myself."

Hermione gave him a crooked smile. "And I will never understand how I managed to get you to love me in return."

He rolled his eyes at her, but she only smirked at him. "I love you," she said again, staring into his eyes.

"I love you," he answered, returning her steady gaze.

He released her and turned towards the door, but she reached out and pulled gently at his arm, turning him back towards her. "Don't go."

He raised his eyebrows at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh Merlin, I don't know what you think I'm suggesting, but whatever you're thinking, it's wrong! You can sleep in that uncomfortable chair by the bed if you like; I just want to know you're here with me."

His expression softened and he glanced past her towards her bedroom. Then he turned towards the door again.

"Wait," she complained, grabbing his arm again. "Won't you stay?"

He smirked at her crestfallen look and desperate tone of voice. "Of course. However, you didn't assume that I slept in my cloak and robes, did you?"

Hermione blushed. "O- of course, I- I . . ." she bit her lip and looked at her feet.

He was rather amused by her embarrassment, and left her rooms, smirking.

After he'd gone Hermione went to her bedroom and changed into her pajamas, going to the bathroom to brush her teeth and her hair before she went and sat on the edge of her bed to wait. Crookshanks jumped up into her lap and she stroked his head absently while she thought over the things Severus had said. She hated that he felt such things about himself. It was terrible. She would spend the rest of her life proving him wrong, if that's what it was going to take to convince him.

Severus entered her rooms and closed the door behind him, walking to her bedroom calmly. He entered and she looked up from the floor, which she had been staring at with particular intensity. He raised his eyebrows when she covered her mouth with her hands.

Hermione didn't know what she had expected; a replica of his usual clothes, only somehow night things? She had seen Severus Snape wearing nothing but dark robes, cloaks, shirt, trousers and his usual dark clothing all of her life. And now, he was standing before her in night things that were just as dark as his daytime clothes, though they were actual pajamas. Hermione found it so disorienting and completely surreal to see him dressed in _muggle pajamas_ she simply couldn't keep her hands from flying to cover her mouth. But they were too late to stop a giggle escaping at the sight of him. And once the first giggle had come, there was more laughter, until she was rocking back and forth on the edge of her bed and Crookshanks had leapt away from her lap and to the safety of the solid floor.

When her laughter finally subsided, Severus had seated himself in the chair by the bed and was looking at her, his face the picture of bemusement. He obviously did not quite understand how she found his appearance so laughable, but neither did he seem upset or angry with her over her reaction. He simply watched her. He was quite sure that it was actually the first time he had been the one to cause such laughter from her, and was too focused on that fact to mind that she was laughing at him.

When she had collected herself and was no longer giggling, she crawled to her place in the middle of her bed and grabbed her wand, dimming the lights and curling up under her blankets. She didn't pull the bed hangings closed, as that would put something between her and Severus. It was dark in her room with only the dying fire to light it, but eventually their eyes adjusted. Hermione turned onto her side, facing Severus, and closed her eyes, trying to sleep. Severus remained in his straight, proper sitting position and watched her in the dark. He couldn't take his eyes off of her face, pale and seemingly glowing slightly in the darkness.

Several moments passed, but sleep would not come to Hermione. She rolled onto her back and faced the ceiling, relaxing. But still, she would not drift off. So she turned onto her other side, her back to Severus. She tossed and turned for the next hour, and he watched her, never losing interest in what she was doing, even if she was half asleep but restless.

At last she turned onto her side and faced him in the dark. She could see his eyes glittering at her in the darkness. "Severus," she whispered.

He lifted his chin slightly in response. "Yes?"

"Are you uncomfortable?" she asked.

He raised his eyebrows, though he knew she couldn't see it. "I am fine," he said.

"I can't sleep," she whispered.

He chuckled dryly. "So I have noticed."

He caught the glint of her quick smile in the darkness. "I'm tired, but I can't sleep," she said, sounding rather annoyed with herself. There was silence for a moment and then, "Would you . . ." she trailed off, stopping mid-sentence.

Severus waited for her to pick up where she had left off and finish. When she didn't, he prodded, "Would I . . .?"

Her voice dropped so low he scarcely heard the words she said next. "Would you sleep beside me?"

"You're sure there is no other way you can sleep at all?" he asked, though he admitted to himself that he rather wanted her to say yes to his question. He got as he wished.

"I'm sure."

Sighing loudly to be sure that she knew he wasn't too eager, he rose from his seat and stepped up to the edge of her bed. She wiggled away from him, to the other side of the bed, watching him in the darkness. He hesitated. If the headmistress found out . . . but then he decided that they were doing nothing wrong, not really. And McGonagall didn't actually have any power to tell them not to do something. Then again, she was the headmistress and this was _her_ school . . . "Minerva will have my head if she ever hears of this," he muttered to Hermione as he himself slid under the blankets and into the bed beside her.

He lay back, resting his head on the pillow. It _was_ a great deal more comfortable than the chair by the bed. For only a fraction of a second he flashed back, seeing Hermione sitting in the chair by his bed, sleeping. How she had slept there every night and never complained, he couldn't even begin to understand. Then he came back the present and sighed, relatively relaxed and comfortable, and turned his head to look at Hermione.

She looked at him, watching his face. It was apparent, even in the darkness, that he was more comfortable in the bed than the chair. Pleased with herself, she smiled at him momentarily in the darkness. It was strange but comforting, feeling him close beside her even though they did not touch. She felt an overwhelming sense of peace and security with him there. His presence echoed safety and she could not have been more comfortable. He didn't move her way, and she wriggled, moving closer to him bit by bit, little by little, until her arm brushed his.

He had been completely aware of her supposedly covert movements to his side, and did not flinch when she touched him. However, he had no idea what he was doing and was feeling panicked again. He felt awkward and uncomfortable enough touching her, embracing her, when they were standing up or sitting. But lying down, and in a bed? What was he supposed to do?

She answered his question silently, doing half of it for him as she squirmed under his arm and rested her head on his chest. His arm was already around her, though he was trembling again, fearing that she would shy away if he did anything. Then he reprimanded himself for these thoughts and curled his arm around her, pulling her more closely against him. He adjusted the way he was laying so that he turned her way slightly, and found it very comfortable to have her there, so close, pressed against him.

Hermione fell asleep, thrilled by his presence and his touch almost so much that sleep was impossible, though eventually she drifted off, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. Severus took a bit longer to fall asleep. First he was afraid that if he fell asleep he would turn in his sleep and hurt her or make her uncomfortable. When he got over that, he was terrified of snoring or causing her to lose any sleep. And when that had gone from his mind, he was suddenly afraid of missing a single moment.

Hermione was so close to him, closer than she'd ever been before, it seemed, and he didn't want to close his eyes and fail to see anything. He was mesmerized, fascinated by the steady rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed, and her head rising and falling with his chest as he did. She was close enough that he could hear her heartbeat, _feel_ her every breath. At last he accepted that it was all right to fall asleep and he curled his other arm around her as well, feeling her lean into his embrace more when he did. He buried his face in her hair, allowing himself to enjoy how lovely she smelled and felt in his arms, and fell asleep with her.

**All right, I would love to hear from you about what you thought of this chapter! Thank you all for reading/reviewing! I am very excited about continuing the story and hope you'll stick around and keep reading. It has been a wonderful experience for me, as this is my first story, and I thank every one of you who has read it so very, very much from the bottom of my heart. All of my love! ~Taelr**


	28. Stay

It was Severus who woke first in the morning. He opened his eyes and blinked at the room around him, confused. It took him a moment, but as soon as he became aware of Hermione beside him he remembered that he was in her rooms and recalled the happenings of the night before. He adjusted his position to better see her face, fearing that he would wake her, but she did not stir.

He looked down at her and was fascinated by the deep pleasure and satisfaction he felt, seeing her and feeling her pressed so close to him. She was asleep, and looked carefree and comfortable even with him there. He was laying on his back, twisted just slightly and turned towards her, his arm around her shoulders with his hand resting on her back. She was on her side, her face pressed into his shoulder, and from there she was cuddled against him, molding herself to him and curled up so to be as close to him as possible. He silently marveled at how their bodies seemed to fit together perfectly, like the pieces to a puzzle, when they were laying this way.

There was also some inexplicable, intense feeling of warmth and comfort, waking up beside her. She was almost the first thing he had seen that morning, and he felt a wave of relief and release, knowing that she was well. And just being in her presence was something words couldn't explain, so waking up beside her, feeling her touch before he felt anything else, was beyond describing. He could feel her breathing as if it was his own, feel her heart beating steadily, she was so close.

He glanced at the clock and smirked at no one in particular; it was early and there was plenty of time left for him to go to his own room before the other staff members left theirs and would be around to see him leaving Hermione's. In the meantime, he could simply lie there and watch her sleeping. And he did exactly that for the next hour, focusing on nothing but her.

By the end of the hour, Severus had studied and memorized every bit of her appearance. He knew every contour, dip, and curve in her face. Her dark, arching eyebrows, her long eyelashes, her pale skin that he didn't have to touch to know was smooth. Her button nose, the soft curve of her jaw, the pale rose hue of her lips. He held one of her curls as he watched her, rubbing it lightly between his fingers and marveling at how soft it was. He considered how small she was compared to him, recalling that when standing she was hardly as tall as his shoulder. Curled up against him now she looked only half his size and he realized that she really was. She was thin, but not frail, and he stared over her small frame, pulling his arm closer around her as he did.

She didn't wake, but did sigh in her sleep and leaned her head back, exposing her neck. His eyes were drawn instantly to the pale, perfect skin there. Her neck was thin, long, and elegant, and he stared, unable to tear his gaze away for a moment. He glanced at her face, still peaceful and calm as ever, and then back at her neck. His eyes flicked to the clock on the wall and then back to her; it was still early and there was time before he had to leave. He bowed his head and pressed his lips to her neck, and was unable to decide which was softer; her lips or her neck.

Hermione's eyelashes fluttered and she opened bleary eyes, gazing drowsily at the sheet of black hair that was in front of her face. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and remembered that Severus had stayed with her.

He had not intended to wake her, and felt her move slightly, so he drew back enough to look down into her face. Her eyes were already bright, and there was a look unlike any other in them when she saw him. There was something there, a flicker of affection for him, a glimpse of how purely pleased and thrilled she was to find him there with her. He stared into her eyes, and she stared back for a moment. Then her eyes turned to the clock and he spoke. "I did not mean to wake you," he apologized quietly.

Hermione looked back to his face and gave a very faint shake of her head. "No. It's fine. Good morning."

He smirked. "Good morning."

He half expected her to sit up or shift away from him, but instead she curled up even closer to him than before. He was now convinced that there was no way she could possibly get any closer. She laid her head on his shoulder and stretched her arm out, letting her hand rest, fingers curled, on his stomach. He wrapped his arm closer around her and raised an eyebrow. "Don't you want to get up?"

Hermione didn't look at the clock again. "There's time," she said quietly. Then she looked at him enquiringly, and asked, "Unless you need to go?"

He smirked. "Not for a time," he said.

She sighed, looking content, and stared at his face for a moment. She realized that because he was wearing pajamas—she suppressed a giggle reminiscent of her laughter the night before—his neck was actually visible and exposed. Not really knowing why, she lifted the hand that was on his stomach and reached up, tracing the scars on his neck with her fingertips.

Severus was startled when she did this, and tensed, flinching slightly. However, he did not shy away. In fact, the touch of her warm fingers was rather pleasant. He watched her face as she looked at his hand, noting the many different emotions that crossed her features. She seemed fascinated by the scars, but then her focus shifted to his hair, and he did flinch away when she touched it.

It wasn't that he didn't want her to touch him as much as the truth that he had simply never been _touched_ before. Throughout his life, he had been treated by all—except his mother—as if he was something repulsive and sickening. People had avoided him in his younger years because of his appearance, and later because of his disposition and attitude towards them. Only his mother and Lily had ever touched him, and his mother's touch had been just that; maternal. Lily's had been that of a friend or a sister, as she had never cared for him as he did her. Never had anyone brushed his skin or ran their fingers through his hair as a lover, as Hermione was doing now.

Severus continued to watch her expression as she touched his hair. She seemed overly pleased to find that it wasn't greasy or dirty, but clean and not as unkempt as it had once been. He tensed yet again when she moved her hand to trace the line of his jaw with her fingertips. He was growing accustomed to her touch, though it was so intimate, saying so much simply with a brush of her skin against his, he knew it would be a great while before he could fully get used to it.

Hermione had been sneaking glances at him as she touched him, and it seemed that she might have actually gotten past his guard for once. He seemed to savor her touch, but she could also see that he was wanting to shy away from her. Hermione wondered if anyone had ever touched him as she was touching him now.

She thought back to Ron. He had brushed her face with the back of his fingers, cupped her face in his hands, kissed her. But never like this. And she hadn't felt for him half as much as she felt for Severus. With Ron, it had been pleasure at his presence, safety and laughter and what she had needed. But with Severus, she had loved him, coveted his presence, craved his touch, wished for his love, yearned to spend the rest of her life proving to him that he could be loved. And there was something about Severus' touch that was different from Ron's; it was exhilarating. He could thrill her just by kissing her forehead or her hand. It didn't have to be her lips or her neck because even the smallest touch with him was something she treasured.

There was silence between them for several moments and Hermione simply rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Then she lifted her head and looked at him. "I love you," she whispered.

He raised his eyebrows. "And I, you."

She reached up to trace the scars on his neck again, and this time he didn't tense at all. He did start in surprise when she sat up suddenly, pulling from his grasp. He waited for her to explain what she was thinking, his arm loosely around her waist. He watched her face, silently fearing that perhaps he had done something to alarm or upset her. But she grabbed the hand that wasn't around her waist and squeezed it, dispelling his fears. "I want to go back."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Back?"

She bit her lip, nodding. "To the shrieking shack."

Severus was perplexed by this strange new desire that had sprung up within her. Why did she want to go back? Had the scars on his neck triggered her memory and brought this longing about? He managed a dry chuckle before he noticed the look on her face. "Now?"

She nodded again.

What was this madness? "You need to bathe and get ready for your day," he said gently, though he was still wondering why she wanted to go to the place where she'd found him.

She shrugged. "I can bathe later and miss breakfast."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "You will be late to start classes and that could cause problems for all of the teachers."

She frowned and let her shoulders sag. "Fine."

He smirked. "You won't go then?"

She shook her head slowly. "Not this morning, anyway." Then she tilted her head at him. "Will you come with me later?"

There was silence for a moment as he studied her expression. She looked hopeful, as if she truly anticipated visiting the shack. He sat up so that it was he looking down at her, though only slightly because they were sitting. "Perhaps," he drawled slowly, a bemused expression on his face.

But his agreement was what she wanted. "Thank you," she said, giving his hand another squeeze.

He said nothing and moved his arm from around her. He looked amused when she looked down at herself and wrinkled her nose. "You think I need to bathe?"

He chuckled dryly. "Hardly. I assumed it was part of your usual morning routine."

Hermione saw the amusement in his eyes and smiled. It faded when she looked at the clock and then back to him. His eyes found the time as well and he moved closer to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over. He tensed only momentarily when Hermione snaked her arms around his neck from behind him and rested her chin on his shoulder, and then he relaxed. "Don't go," she whispered, though it was only halfhearted because she knew there was really no option of staying in her room.

He reached up, uncurling her arms from around his neck gently and replying, "You are aware that I cannot stay," firmly but kindly.

She sighed and released him, though her chin was still resting on his shoulder. She leaned against his back, pressing her cheek against his neck. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying his scent. She failed to notice at first when he began to tremble at her touching his neck with her cheek. He still held his head high, but clenched his jaw, which she felt against her cheek. She misinterpreted this action and turned her face towards him, whispering into his neck, "Severus, relax. What's wrong?"

Her lips were so close to him already, she hardly thought about pressing them to his neck. He had the sudden, impulsive and instinctive, completely uncharacteristic desire to turn around and kiss her deeply and see where it led, but resisted. He let out his breath loudly and stopped sitting straight, sagging back against Hermione and into her arms. He was glad he had resisted only moments later, when the strange, burning desire faded.

She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck again and rested her chin once more on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck. He leaned his head back and rested it on her shoulder, and enjoyed the strange tingling sensation that he experienced whenever she touched his neck. Perhaps it was the scars, perhaps it was the lack of being touched in his past, perhaps even just the knowledge that it was Hermione touching him, though he was not sure.

They sat that way for a few moments, silent but communicating with touch as only lovers could. At last, though, it was time for Severus to go. He straightened his shoulders and Hermione released him grudgingly, looking up into his face when he stood and turned to see her. She was on her knees on the bed behind where he had just been sitting, and though she didn't appear to be pouting, her eyes were sad.

He held out his hands, surprising her, and she took them. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, looking up at him questioningly. He leaned down and kissed her, taking her by surprise. She felt him release her hands after a moment and wrap his arms around her as he deepened the kiss and she reached up, looping her arms around his neck and pulling herself more snugly against him.

This was the kind of kiss that left both of them wanting more. But Severus broke away all the same, exercising his usually flawless self-control and leaning away from her slightly. Then he nodded and released her, stepping back after she let go of his neck. She bit her lip and watched him smirk at her before he left her rooms.

After he'd gone, Hermione had just enough time to go to the bathroom and bathe before she got ready for her day. Then she snatched her wand from the bedside table, tucking it inside of her robes near the beaded bag, and entered the teachers' lounge. Most of the other staff was either just leaving the lounge for the Great Hall or just entering it from their rooms. Hermione was pleased when Severus entered from his rooms and approached her, looking as if he had indeed spent the night in his own room, and offered her his arm. She took it and they walked from the lounge together and up to the Great Hall.

When they were seated Hermione looked out over the students and caught Ginny's eye. The redhead narrowed her eyes, suspicious of the beautiful but far too happy smile gracing the transfiguration teacher's face.

Hermione left the Great Hall and entered her classroom after the meal, seating herself behind her desk and waving her wand to tidy the room. She had a few moments before her first class arrived, and she realized with a smile that Ginny would be among them. She smiled at her students when they walked in and took their seats, but Ginny was the only one to smirk knowingly back.

After the class was over the students left, all except for Ginny, who lingered until the rest had gone and then walked up to Hermione's desk and folded her arms. "Okay, what's up this time?" she asked with a hopeful grin on her lips.

Hermione smirked back. "Nothing is up," she said, biting her lip and absently playing with the edge of a paper on her desk.

Ginny's smirk deepened the lines in her face. She unfolded her arms and set her hands on the edge of the desk, leaning forward on them. "Hermione, seriously, there isn't all that much time before the next class." Seeing Hermione's raised eyebrows, she added, "And I can say you needed to talk to me as an excuse for being late to potions."

"Potions," Hermione mused. "He still isn't going to let you off without a note from me, and even then," she scribbled a note on a scrap of paper, folding it and pushing it towards Ginny, who she looked up at with a smirk, "He's going to know why I wanted to talk to you."

Ginny grinned. "I know. Now tell me please?"

Hermione shook her head, pretending to zip her lips and throw the key.

There was the sound of footsteps in a not-so-distant corridor on their way to her class. Ginny was getting desperate. "Please?" she begged, leaning farther towards her best friend.

Hermione bit her lip harder, staring into Ginny's eyes for a moment, debating with herself. "All right," she whispered, because the students were getting closer. "He stayed the night last night."

Ginny seemed startled by the news, and by the fact that Hermione had actually told her what was up. "He _stayed_?" she sounded incredulous.

Hermione nodded.

"In . . ." now Ginny bit her lip, as if afraid to ask what Hermione already knew she would. "In your . . . in your bed?"

Hermione was biting her lip as well. She nodded.

Ginny squeaked, looking like she might faint.

Hermione was quick to spot her mistake in not speaking. "But nothing happened," she added hurriedly.

Ginny opened her mouth to say more but just then the next class of students entered. She closed her teeth with an audible _click_ and stepped away from the teacher's desk, snatching up the signed note to excuse her lateness. Hermione could see that she was just burning to ask questions, but she nodded to her teacher and left the room hurriedly. Hermione started the next class, but all she could think about now was how much she was looking forward to the talk in the classroom that she and Ginny would undoubtedly have later that day.

The entire day seemed to go quicker than expected, though she was enjoying her job teaching again. And she had, just as Severus predicted, been killing the Slytherins with kindness. They hated her even more for the lack of retaliation on her part and couldn't seem to come to grips with the fact that she didn't hate them for attacking her and putting her in the hospital. There were several that particularly loathed her for her loving response to their actions, and they taunted her for it as well. She suspected that perhaps one of these was the true culprit, but decided not to mention it to Severus, who was sure to do a bit more than be harsh with them if he found out who was responsible.

At dinner Hermione kept noticing the meaningful looks Ginny was giving her and continuously nodded back throughout the meal. When it was over at last Ginny practically ran to the staff table and waited for Hermione to walk out of the Great Hall with her. Hermione glanced over her shoulder and saw Severus' expression. One look and she knew that he was completely aware of what their conversation's topic would be, and also that he knew that Ginny was doing fine in class and had only stayed behind to discuss him with Hermione.

When the two girls reached the transfiguration classroom, they walked to Hermione's office and shut the door before Ginny sat down in the chair in front of the desk and Hermione perched on the edge of the desk as she always did when talking to her best friend.

Hermione explained the happenings of the night before, trying to put into words how it had felt to be so close to Severus, but failing and eventually giving up. Ginny seemed to understand though, and nodded constantly. She seemed to calm down quite a bit after being given the whole story. When there was no amount of time with Severus that Hermione hadn't explained to Ginny, the subject switched to her reason for going to Saint Mungo's, and Ginny talked about how rumors of a student attacking a teacher had flown through the school and they hadn't been sure whether it was Hermione or Severus who had been attacked because they were both absent from the school.

Unexpectedly, Ginny changed the subject back to their original reason for meeting to talk. "When you said he'd stayed, I just thought for sure that . . ." she trailed off, her face turning as flaming red as her hair.

Hermione laughed. "I suppose it would make sense to think so. But nothing actually did happen, you know."

Ginny nodded, but her face was still red. "I'm glad nothing happened." She wrinkled her nose in distaste and tried to hide it, making her face look like a squashed mandrake root. "I just . . . Snape . . . that seems so . . . repulsive to me."

Hermione shrugged. "It would have seemed repulsive to me only a matter of months ago, too. But now . . ." she trailed off, shrugging again.

Ginny shook her head, sighing. "Well, I'm just relieved you didn't . . . _do that_ . . . because I would be thoroughly grossed out and never able to look him in the eye again. And you? What would I do about you? I wouldn't be able to take you seriously, or handle talking to you anymore."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, amused. "And what when we get married, then? I assume you've guessed what will happen then?"

Ginny's face had been turning pale once more, but she reddened again, all of the way to the tips of her ears. "I . . ." but she couldn't continue, and let out a strange, strangle noise.

Hermione leaned forward, a half-grin, half-smirk on her face. "You . . .?"

Ginny took a deep breath. "I'd like to avoid thinking about that as long as I can, thanks."

Hermione laughed at her friend. "Is it really that repulsive to you that you can't bring yourself to talk about it? Hmmm," she mused.

She was surprised when Ginny looked up at her and asked, "It's inevitable, isn't it?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows again. She laughed, but it was short and hardly funny. "What do you mean?"

Ginny turned an even deeper shade of red and fingered the hem of her robe nervously. "You- you know what I mean."

Hermione shrugged and let out a loud breath in exasperation. "I suppose it is inevitable. Is it really that much of a bother for you to think about?"

Ginny shrugged, grinning. "I guess it's just . . . weird. And strange. And gross."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and smirked. "Gross," she repeated, watching her friend's expression with interest.

Ginny shrugged yet again. "Yes. Gross. As in disgusting."

Hermione only laughed, seeming more amused by Ginny's distaste than irked over it.

Ginny huffed. "I'm serious! He's old, Hermione! Doesn't that freak you out just a little bit?"

Hermione shook her head, looking nonplussed. "No. I never think of him as old so I guess it doesn't seem like such a big deal to me."

Ginny looked perplexed by this, but nodded. "All right, whatever you say, _Professor_."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, a teasing smile lighting up her face. "Watch it," she cautioned, "I _do_ take points away from my own house if you're fresh with me, you know."

Ginny grinned back. "I don't doubt it."

Then she jumped up from her chair and linked her arm with Hermione's. "Walk me back to your old dormitory, Professor?"

Hermione smiled and nodded, and they walked back to Gryffindor tower together. Hermione walked back to the teachers' lounge after and entered, glancing around the room without much interest before she entered her rooms.

It was another week before she saw much of Severus at night; he spent quite a few of his late evenings with students in detention. But one night he did walk her back down from the Great Hall after dinner and they waited until everyone else had left the lounge. Hermione asked him to stay with her again, and he complied, giving a few complaints though they were only halfhearted.

She went into her rooms and changed, scooping up Crookshanks in her lap and petting him while she waited for Severus to return to her. She talked to him as she stroked his fur, mentioning classes and Hagrid's latest idea when it came to getting an illegal dragon for a pet. She smiled when Severus entered, and Crookshanks stepped off of her lap to let her stand though he didn't flee as he usually did when he didn't like a guest. He had started to accept Severus as being all right, though the potions master was still treated as an intruder by the cat.

Hermione smiled at them both and turned her attention to Severus.

She fell asleep wrapped in his arms that night, just as she had been on the first night a week before. Her face was pressed into his chest, and she was lulled to sleep by his steady heartbeat, her head rising and falling with his chest as he breathed. She could lay like that forever, with him. When they were so close it was as if she could think of nothing and was also thinking over so many things; her mind was comfortably empty, and yet she was also noticing his breathing, smiling at his heartbeat, and thinking about how much she loved him.

It was much the same for him. He had learned to clear his mind long ago, and found that when he was holding Hermione in his arms it was a much easier thing to do. His thoughts would settle on the breeze when she was in his embrace, so close, and at the same time he could think of nothing but her and how wondrous a creature she was. As he had the first time, he didn't fall asleep until much later than she did, though this time he was worry-free and drifted off wondering once more how she could possibly love him as much as she did.

**Hello! I am so very sorry about not updating for the past couple of days and I apologize for keeping you guys waiting. I have just been busy lately between homework and some other things. But I'm back and I should have another chapter up tomorrow! Or I guess that here it's after midnight so I should have another up today! Thanks again to you all for reading. And to all of you who have reviewed, thank you so, so, so much. I love you guys. And when you take the time to tell me what you think it means so much to me. Love you all! ~Taelr**


	29. The Date

Severus stayed with Hermione a third time, not long after the second. They were rather discreet about the entire thing, lest people get the wrong idea and begin to assume things that were not actually taking place. Only Ginny knew that Severus had ever stayed in Hermione's room with her, and they told no one else.

Hermione hadn't seemed to have even a single free moment in the last month, and it was nearing the end of January. She still hadn't made her visit to the shrieking shack, but had decided to go as soon as she had the chance. She knew that Severus was busy with several students who were failing potions and needed extra classes, so she hadn't asked him to come along. It was a Saturday when she was finally free of homework to be graded or students to help.

It was just after lunch when she left the Great Hall, not even glancing over her shoulder at Severus, who watched her leave. He knew because she was wearing her heavier cloak and a hat that she was going outdoors, where there was still a thick blanket of snow on everything.

Hermione passed small groups of students who were out enjoying the cold air and throwing snowballs at each other. They noticed her but none of them attacked her with snow or tried to bring her into their battles, which she was grateful for. A couple of them watched as she walked towards the whomping willow, but they lost interest in her destination soon enough and turned back to their own affairs.

When she reached the tree, which twisted and swung its branches upon her approach, she gazed at it for a moment before looking over the students not too far away. None of them were paying attention to her any longer, so she found a stick and paralyzed the tree, crawling on all fours through the tunnel under between its roots and lighting the way with her wand. When she reached the shrieking shack and stepped out, it was dim inside, much dimmer than it had been when she found Severus all that time before. She got the strangest feeling, and it was eerie, being back in that place. There was an overwhelming wave of memories that washed over her and she leaned against the wall, not even fighting them and letting herself relive several.

She looked around the room she was standing in, swallowing when she noticed the bloodstained boards on the wall and floor where Severus had nearly died. Where she had found him. Her eyes remained on the place for several moments and then she looked away, letting her gaze drift slowly over the room, taking in every detail and holding her lighted wand high to see everything around her. A chill ran down her spine and she used her free hand to pull her cloak closer around her shoulders. The shivers she was experiencing were more than just from the frigid air around her, though; she was reliving the day she had come to see Severus' dead body and had instead found him alive.

How different would her life be today if she had stayed in the Great Hall with Ron and everyone else and never come to the shrieking shack?

She would still be enjoying her job as a professor at her old school, she knew. But would she and Ron still be together? If Severus hadn't survived then Hermione would never had been his nurse and Ron would never have lost his temper because she cared for the potions master. She wouldn't be engaged now, she knew; she and Ron hadn't been that serious, and they would need to be serious for much longer than a few months before he would ever think of getting down on one knee and asking her to marry him. And even if he had, she would have made him wait, wanting to be sure that she really wanted to be his wife and spend her life with him before she actually said yes. She would have refused him and asked that he wait a few years.

She considered then how she had fallen for Severus slowly, but how quick she had been to say yes as soon as he proposed. Perhaps it was because she had been very serious with him, and it had been a while. They had been through a lot together. But then, she and Ron had been through much together as well, so where was the difference? Why had she told Severus "yes" immediately when she would have made Ron wait? Perhaps it was more than just her relationship with Severus or with Ron, but the two different men themselves. Ron would still have been sort of unsure of whether he really wanted to marry Hermione or not even if he asked, as they hadn't been together or serious for all _that_ long. Whereas Severus, given his disposition and usual behavior, had done the opposite of what was to be expected of him by asking Hermione to marry him. She realized it was because of what it really meant for him, to be willing to get down on one knee and admit that he couldn't offer her much, that Hermione had said yes.

But she wouldn't be engaged, wouldn't have ever noticed how much she liked the way Severus smelled, wouldn't have been like some lifeless creature herself over the summer because she wouldn't have cared for him, if he hadn't lived. She wouldn't have ever thought of him as anything more than the misunderstood, misjudged man who ended up being a hero, would never had known the truth about him, about his true self, if he had died in the shack. So many things would be different if she hadn't returned to the shrieking shack. Hermione found herself thanking her instincts—and herself for following them—when she came to the shrieking shack all those months before. That single act of walking to the whomping willow and crawling through the tunnel beneath it had changed her life dramatically and things would never go back to the way they had been before.

She saw herself in her mind's eye, cleaning Severus' wounds as if he was alive even though she was sure he had died. And then she had found him to be quite the opposite of dead, and had panicked. She remembered Ron's look of distaste and the things he had said to her when he had seen her return to the castle with the potions master floating unconscious beside her. If Ron had known then how Severus would completely wreck everything between him and Hermione, the redhead would probably have finished the older man off without a second thought or swept Hermione away and refused to let her become Severus' nurse.

In a way her relationship with Severus was Ron's fault; if Ron had only kept his temper when Hermione was Severus' caregiver, they wouldn't originally have split up. If that was the case then she would have cared about whether Severus lived or died but she would never have _loved_ him. It was Ron who had pushed her away and it was because of his actions that she had come to find solace in another man. If Ron had never sent Hermione the letter containing the false news about Lavender and all of the unkind things about Hermione, she would never have fled down to the dungeons and blindly run into Severus. If she had never run into him then she wouldn't have remembered his scent and how it captivated her. And if that had never happened she would probably never have given the hard, cruel potions master a second thought.

She wondered what it was that had brought Severus to love her. He was rarely grateful to anyone for anything, and she knew that he had not loved her when she was caring for him, staying at his bedside at all times while he was dying because of the dark mark. He had said that his love for her began shortly after her birthday, but then he would have at least started to discover his own feelings some time before then, just as she had. Even if she and Ron had never split up, Hermione wondered whether Severus would have come to love her. She knew that whether he loved her or not he would never have told her or anyone else about it. It had taken him long enough to accept that he wasn't really protecting her by denying her his love when she _had_ admitted to loving him. There was no way he would have made his love known if she hadn't openly felt the same way, and especially if she belonged to another man.

Hermione sighed and turned away from the room, entering the tunnel again and leaving the place, not wanting to linger too long. She would be late for Lunch if she waited much longer, so she moved hurriedly from the whomping willow towards the school. Most of the students were still out playing in the snow, willing to be a bit late to the meal in order to have just a few extra moments outdoors.

She entered the Great Hall and made her way to her seat at the staff table, where most of the staff was waiting. Quite a few students came into the hall and seated themselves, and soon enough it was full of noise. Silence fell as McGonagall rose and announced that those of them with permission slips could go to Hogsmeade that night for the last time this term, and then she clapped her hands and food appeared on every table.

Hermione was surprised when Severus turned her way and asked, "Did you enjoy your time outdoors?"

She looked up at him and nodded, smiling. "It was nice." But she didn't elaborate. She could tell that he knew where she had gone and waited for him to ask something more, but he looked back to his food and focused on that rather than her.

She turned back to her own food and enjoyed the way that it seemed to warm her from the inside out. She hadn't realized just how cold she had gotten while in the shrieking shack.

After the meal Hermione watched the students leaving the Great Hall for a moment before she herself stood. She was surprised when Severus did the same, and smiled at him questioningly. He only offered his arm in response, which she took, wondering as they walked away from the staff table what he was thinking and where they were going.

She lost interest in where they were walking and her thoughts drifted to classes and students. There wasn't very long before all of the students would be taking their end of the year exams and the older students would be taking OWLs or NEWTs. Hermione was excited to be the teacher and not the student during a test for once, and wondered what it would be like.

She came out of her thoughts and looked up at Severus, as they were still walking. "Where are we going?" she asked.

Severus looked down into those bright, shining eyes. Was it really the best idea that he bring this up now? She seemed to have her mind on other things . . .

His thoughts were cut off when she stopped walking, clinging to his arm and bringing him to a stop beside her. "Severus?" she asked.

He glanced past her and turned his head to see around them. Yes, this would do; there was no one in the corridor but the portraits in their frames, and they didn't seem to care at all that there were two teachers in their corridor. "It has occurred to me," he said, looking into her eyes and at last deciding it was necessary to talk about this now, before she was busy with students once more, "that while you did agree to become my wife, there was never a certain date set as to _when_ that would happen."

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. So this was why he had brought her wandering aimlessly through the school, looking for an empty corridor? She nodded mutely to him. At last she found her voice. "We never did decide on a date," she agreed.

Severus watched her face, remembering what had led him to ask her to marry him in the first place. He smirked at the thrilled expression she was wearing and asked, "I believe most women favor one season over the others?"

Hermione smiled. "I prefer the short amount of time when spring is ending and summer is beginning."

He nodded, though the smirk faded. "May or June, then?"

She bit her lip, smiling wider. "Yes, I think so. The end of May or the beginning of June."

He inclined his chin, nodding once. "And was there a particular place that you would-"

"Here," she interrupted his question with the answer before he'd even finished asking.

He raised his eyebrows. "Here?"

Hermione bit her lip again, causing him to frown. "Yes, here."

His brow was still creased. "And why here?"

She stopped biting her lip though she was thinking hard. How could she put into words the deep connection she felt to the school? It was where she'd met Harry and Ron, where they had become the two most important people in her life. It was where she had learned magic and gotten her education. It was where she had spent countless hours having fun, making trouble with her two friends, breaking rules, studying, scolding, and feeling terrified. It was here that she had first met Severus, and while she had hated him back then, she loved him at the present. It was here that she had returned and become his nurse, which led to her loving him. The school was so much more than a castle, so much more than a heap of bricks and wood and things, so much more than just a building. It was part of who she was today, part of what had made her who she had become.

She took a deep breath, struggling to put into words the things she had just thought. But she didn't know how closely Severus was watching her expressions, and that somehow he read everything she was feeling on her face, in her eyes. He knew what she felt for the school, and why it was so important to her that yet another great memory be made there and not somewhere else. She looked up into his eyes, her mouth open though no words came out, still trying to explain. But he shook his head and lifted a hand to keep her from speaking.

"I understand," he said.

She didn't smile, but showed how grateful she was with her eyes, using them to smile and tell him how pleased and relieved she was that he understood without her having to say anything. She got the strong feeling that he would have leaned down to kiss her, but then both of them became aware that they were in a public corridor and it was not something they were allowed to do. Instead, Severus offered her his arm and they began walking back the way they had come.

As they did, he said, "You may choose whatever date you like for the wedding, and though I want it to be the way you like, I ask that you invite only so many."

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Of course. And thank you for letting me choose."

He nodded once, and when she had looked away he turned and looked down at her. Her curls bounced even though she wasn't walking very quickly, and she had a lovely ghost of a smile on her lips. He wanted her wedding day to be everything she had ever dreamed of, and he smirked, knowing that she would never have chosen very many guests anyways for his sake, whether he'd asked her to or not.

Hermione convinced him to come outside with her, but as soon as she gazed at the snow with a girlish look on her face he pulled his arm gently out of her grasp and stepped back. He knew she was longing to make a snowball and throw it his way, but she took a deep breath, shoulders heaving and then sagging as she did, before she straightened and turned back to him, taking two quick, graceful steps through the snow and taking his arm again. "I won't," she said, seeing the still-distrustful look on his face.

He looked so uncomfortable, and was definitely not as contented to watch the students playing in the snow as she was, she almost laughed at his expression. Clouds had covered the sky and large snowflakes had started to fall, and she watched the children, failing to notice that Severus' attention was on her. He had never like the cold, and not had any appreciation for the beauty of snow, but he watched as the large flakes of snow tumbled slowly through the air and landed lightly in Hermione's hair or on her face. Where they hit her skin, they melted, but they stayed cold and white in her curly hair.

He found himself marveling at her beauty again, and wondering with a certain thrill filling him how it was that such a lovely young woman could want him. But he wasn't questioning her sanity in the decision, or hating himself for ruining her life. Rather, he had come to accept that she loved him for who he was and that it was no use to think that he wasn't good enough for her, because she would never accept that. Instead, as he watched her he thought over everything they had been through together. If she had seen his cold, hard side rather than the loving or the kind so many times and yet she could still love him and be willing to pledge herself to him, link herself to him legally, forever, in marriage, didn't that mean that there must be something in him worth loving still?

She felt his eyes on her and turned, looking up at him. Her grip on his arm tightened just a bit, squeezing him lightly. Her eyes sparkled and the slow-falling snow around them reflected in them, looking brilliant. Severus stared into her eyes, and she into his. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and he smirked at her before turning suddenly and pulling her out of the way in time for the ball of snow that flew through the air to miss her. It was almost as if they were back in Saint Mungo's during the chaotic mess just inside the entrance, the way he had helped her dodge an attack.

Hermione turned her attention away from Severus and saw Ginny scolding two Slytherin first years that were looking crestfallen that their target had moved in time to avoid the snowball. Severus raised an eyebrow when Hermione let go of his arm and dropped to her knees, scooping up an armful of snow and beginning to make snowballs of her own. He walked a few paces away and leaned against a tree, watching with amusement as Hermione moved her pile of neatly-made snowballs behind a bush for cover as the two Slytherins hid behind a tree and made their own ammunition.

Severus watched as multiple students took sides, Ginny among those that ran to crouch behind the bush with Hermione. They started making more snowballs as those who had sided with the enemies did the same behind multiple trees a short ways away.

A large snowball fight commenced and there was snow flying back and forth, seemingly in all directions through the air. Sometimes the snowballs found their marks, but most of them fell short or were aimed just a bit off. Hermione and her team of students were better than the others and faster at making snowballs, so they won in the end. However, nearly all of them were covered in snow.

Hermione stood up when it was over, her students running around whooping and hollering in victory while most of the other team grinned in acceptance of their defeat. The two original Slytherins and a few of their companions looked rather sour, but they stomped off and left the rest of them celebrating whether they'd won or lost. All of those left remaining seemed positively thrilled that _a teacher_ had joined them in the snow and whether they had been on her team or not they all seemed to be beaming about it.

When Hermione made her way to Severus and the students dispersed, she was beaming as her students had been. He reached up and plucked a large chunk of snowball from her hair, tossing it aside and smirking at her. She was very tempted to make a quick snowball and throw it at him or at least smash it over his head, but knew better, so she refrained. He offered her his arm and they walked back to the school together.

Inside, Hermione was telling Neville about the snowball fight and he was frowning and smiling at intervals; he was happy that she had enjoyed herself but wished that he had known so that he could participate.

Later in the evening most of the students and several of the staff left for Hogsmeade, Hermione and Severus among them. Hermione didn't ask where they were going, and was pleased when he led her to _the Three Broomsticks_. They found a seat in a corner and Hermione remembered the last time they had been there; she had been carefully counting heads because Rookwood was still on the loose and there had still been daily dangers and precautions that must be taken. Now she just smiled in the direction of a table of students and turned her attention to Madam Rosmerta when she came to ask what they wanted.

Not long after that she and Severus were enjoying a light argument about potions and the best approach to teaching any class, sipping their butterbeers. Hermione secretly marveled at the fact that Severus was actually drinking butterbeer every time that he brought it to his lips. She would never have guessed when she was a student that he even had a favorite food or drink, or that he tasted food at all. He had seemed so foul and cold back then, she smiled at what a different light she saw him in now.

Back in the castle, late at night, she curled up in bed after turning out the lights with her wand. She smiled, stroking Crookshanks in the dark before she put an arm around him and drifted off. In only a matter of months, she would be married.

**All right, I know this one is short but I have been super busy lately which is why I haven't had time to update! The next chapter will hold some nice things (perhaps **_**someone's**_** wedding, but I'm not positive yet) and I hope this will be enough to keep you guys interested and satisfied until then! Please, if you have a moment, I'd love to hear what you think of it so go ahead and leave a review if you have anything to say! I love you all! ~Taelr**


	30. Summer Rain

Hermione took a deep breath and bit her lip, looking at Ginny. "Well?"

The redhead grinned but shook her head. "Just a minute, your hair's coming out _here_," and she reached up, tucking a pin expertly into Hermione's curls. She studied her best friend's face and hair for a moment longer before nodding finally. "Okay."

Hermione heaved a sigh. "Finally," she said, feigning exasperation. She turned around to see herself in the mirror and bit her lip again when she did; Ginny had done her hair and her makeup, and when Hermione looked at her she saw that the younger witch was frowning.

"Thank goodness I didn't put anything on your lips," Ginny said, shaking her head and smiling. "Well, what do you think?"

Hermione turned her eyes back to her own reflection. Ginny had pulled her hair back and tied it loosely so it was a mess of perfect curls falling down her back and several thinner ringlets framed her face. Her face was pale, as always, though there was blush on her cheeks and light, natural beauty-enhancing makeup around her eyes. She blinked and scrutinized Ginny's work, finding nothing wrong with it.

"You can't bite your lip after this," Ginny said as she grabbed Hermione's arm and spun her around away from the mirror again.

Hermione was still in her regular muggle clothes, a large shirt and shorts, but now that her makeup was done it was time for her to change out of those. Ginny waved her wand at the carefully covered piece of clothing hanging on the door and it floated to them. She pulled the draped fabric cover off of the still-floating garment and smiled along with Hermione at the beautiful white dress before her.

When Hermione was in the dress, Ginny secured the veil in her hair and made some final touch-ups to Hermione's makeup and hair before she nodded. She hadn't let Hermione turn around to see herself since putting on the dress, and when the older girl did she blinked a couple of times and stared at herself in the mirror. The bodice of the dress was closer-fitting to her form but not too tight, and from her waist down the skirt flowed out beautifully. It was a deep cream, light coloured and beautiful against Hermione's pale skin. It had long sleeves and was modest while still lending attractive flare to her womanly figure.

Hermione wasn't wearing her shoes, and she lifted her skirts above her ankles while Ginny helped her step into them. They exited Hermione's bathroom together and both of them looked at the clock at the same time. Things were going smoothly and as planned; there was enough time for them to go up to the Great Hall, where the wedding would take place.

Ginny was dressed in a white and lavender dress, looking beautiful herself. Her hair fell loosely down over her shoulders, and Hermione had pinned a delicate white rose in the back of it. She had been with Ginny when they chose their dresses, and they had done each other's makeup and hair.

The two girls linked arms and left Hermione's rooms, passing through the empty teachers' lounge and making their way along the corridor beyond.

As they walked, Hermione thought back to the past year of her life. It all seemed to have gone by in a blur, and at the same time every detail and memory was sharp and vivid, clearer even than the day it had happened. It seemed like only yesterday that Severus was kneeling in front of her, asking for her hand. The last weeks of school had seemed to go by the fastest of all of them, and now Hogwarts felt empty without all of the students hurrying around all of the time. Only the staff members were left, and the people Hermione had invited to the wedding had all arrived that morning.

Hermione had been relatively calm, numb really, back in her rooms getting ready with Ginny. But now, now she thought her heart was beating loudly enough for everyone in the castle to hear it. Now she was a bit nervous. She wasn't having second thoughts—nothing could be more desirable than a life spent with the man she loved—but now she worried that something might go wrong. And there was just the general shock, the realization that she was really about to give herself, completely, entirely, to someone. She was about to pledge her love for him and promise to love him until the end of her life. It was a very big thing, and it was finally dawning on her just how big a decision and act it was.

They reached the doors to the Great Hall, which were closed. The entrance hall looked just as it had all through her years of being a student, but Hermione knew that the Great Hall was decorated beautifully even though she hadn't been allowed to see it. Ginny gave her arm a squeeze and then let her go, stepping away just a bit to give her some space. "Ready?"

Hermione stared at the doors for a moment before turning to look at Ginny. She swallowed the suddenly-there lump in her throat and nodded. "I think so."

Ginny smiled and stepped forward, opening the doors and stepping aside to let Hermione go by. All eyes were on the bride as she walked in and Ginny closed the doors behind her, but she didn't see a single face of anyone around her; she was gazing around at the Great Hall.

There were white streamers and snow-colored silk hangings draped across the walls with white roses and lilies everywhere. More flowers floated high above their heads, whites, light pinks, creamy yellows, delicate shades of purple and blue. Their scents mingled and drifted down onto the people below. Only two tables were in the vast room, and they were on either side of the doors to the entrance hall, near the wall to give space to the room. They were blanketed in brilliant white cloths and even more flowers. Chairs had been set up in rows facing the place where the staff table usually stood but was now replaced by a slightly raised podium. The aisle between the chairs that let up to the podium was lined on either side with more flowers. The platform itself was draped in white.

Severus turned when the doors opened and watched as Hermione walked in, unintentionally graceful as always. She was beautiful, her face hidden beneath her veil and because she was still quite a distance away from him, but he knew that if he could see it there would be a look of pure awe and wonder on it as she viewed the Great Hall. He knew she liked the decorations; Ginny and Minerva had done most of them, but he had asked for a certain addition. Now he wondered whether she would like the lilies that were placed alongside the white roses. He was sure that she would understand why had had wanted lilies; one final goodbye and payment of respects to the woman who he had loved first. The lilies were also a way of having her there with him on that day when he was finally ready to let her go completely and accept that he had come to love another, and that it was alright to feel as he did for someone other than Lily.

Hermione looked to the people around her and smiled at them, and they smiled in return. Ginny had disappeared into the small crowd and returned, leading two nicely dressed people. Their faces lit up when they saw Hermione, who gasped in surprise; her parents were walking towards her, on their own feet, holding onto Ginny's hands but not leaning on her. Hermione remembered not to bite her lip and smiled back at her parents as they stopped in front of her. Her mum reached up and touched one of her curls, smiling at her, while her dad smiled at them.

Hermione swallowed, reminding herself that she oughtn't to cry, and squeezed her parents' hands. Everyone moved to their seats and Hermione turned in surprise when her father offered her his arm. She looked to Ginny, standing nearby, for an explanation.

The redhead walked over and said, "We taught him to walk us down the aisle. I thought you would want him to." She handed Hermione a bouquet of white flowers.

Hermione had tears brimming in her eyes as she watched Ginny lead her mum to their seats. She looked up and saw Severus waiting at the end of the aisle for her, Aberforth Dumbledore standing beside and slightly behind him. She turned to look at her father, who was looking at her, waiting expectantly. She took a deep breath and smiled at him, looking ahead as they began to walk. Everyone rose from their seats to watch her father walk her down the aisle, and many of them were smiling at her as she walked by. She smiled back nervously.

When she reached the end of the aisle and the end of the rows of chairs, her father released her arm, kissing her hand before he let her go and sat down beside his wife. Hermione handed her bouquet to Ginny, who was standing nearby, and stepped up onto the small podium to stand in front of Severus. He took her hands in his and couldn't decide whether to smirk or look concerned; she was trembling slightly. In the end he decided to do neither, and simply gazed into her eyes for a moment. Hermione looked up into his face, and in his eyes she found the peace, the composure, the calm that she needed. She knew that Severus couldn't offer her expensive things or many pricy possessions, but he could offer his love and his heart, and that was all she wanted. They turned to look at Aberforth and Hermione found that Severus was trembling just as she was.

It seemed only seconds later—though Hermione knew it had been more—that the vows had been taken and Severus had lifted her veil from her face and leaned down to kiss her. It was the first time he had kissed her in the plain view of anyone, the first time anyone had seen them share much affection. Hermione took Severus' arm and turned to face the people who had stood and were smiling and clapping. She found the Weasley family among them, looking up at her. Arthur and Molly were smiling at her, George was shaking his head and whistling loudly, Percy was smirking but looking happy for her, Charlie and Bill were smiling and clapping, and Ron was looking as if he'd just been hit with the curse that made him vomit slugs so many years before.

Harry and Ginny were there, together, holding hands and beaming up at her. Neville was standing between his gran and Luna, the latter having locked arms with him. But Luna appeared to be gazing, awestruck, at something floating above her head. Hermione assumed that the girl had seen a nargle or something among the flowers. On Luna's other side stood her father, and he smiled at Hermione, nodding politely to Severus.

Hermione's parents were standing together, looking around at the happy, loud people around them with wonder. They were smiling, though, and beaming up at Hermione and Severus. Hagrid was standing behind the chairs in the back, wiping a soaking handkerchief under his eyes and crying loudly, smiling through his tears. The other staff members were among Hermione's family and friends, and they looked up at her, smiling politely. Minerva even wiped a gleaming tear from one of her cheeks and readjusted the glasses on the bridge of her nose.

Everyone moved back to the open area in the Great Hall after that, deserting the chairs, and Minerva waved her wand. The rows of chairs vanished and left more space for everyone to move around, and then the tables slid out into the middle of the room and everyone took a seat. Hermione and Severus were seated together at their own table at the head of and between the other two. A great feast appeared on all of the tables and everyone began to eat, toasting Severus and Hermione's marriage and wishing them years of happiness together. Filch appeared to have had a bit too much firewhiskey, as he raised his goblet and said loudly, hushing the din around him, "To the Snapes!" adding, "When'll we see little Severuses, hmm?" Then he muttered, "Bet they'll be nothing' but a heap of trouble, and little brats, too . . ."

"Argus!" Minerva scolded, looking and sounding shocked.

Hermione lowered her gaze to her food, blushing profusely, while Severus set down his fork to glare murderously at the caretaker.

But George could apparently not keep from laughing, and he allowed a chuckle to escape, leading to the loud laughter of everyone in the hall. Hermione was able join after a moment, and when she looked smilingly at Severus, he frowned. She made a face and turned back to her food and he raised his eyebrows at her, amused, even though she wasn't looking at him.

After the meal the tables were pushed back up against the far wall and a shower of flower pedals fell from thin air above them. Severus offered Hermione his arm and she took it, allowing him to lead her into the middle of the room, where everyone stood back to give the couple space. Hermione couldn't breathe. What if she stepped the wrong way and stood on his foot? And she had never seen Severus dance before, so she wondered what he was thinking.

He reached up and plucked a flower pedal from her hair gently, tossing it aside and taking one of her hands in his. He took her waist with the other hand and Hermione bit her lip as she looked at him, trying to hide how terrified she was of falling. He smirked at her just as music began to play and then they were sweeping around, dancing, and Hermione couldn't take her eyes off of Severus' face. He was still smirking at her, and his steps were perfect and composed. He looked completely relaxed as he pulled Hermione gently along with him, and she realized that she hardly had to move at all because of his expert way of guiding her. Several more graceful steps and Hermione saw out of the corner of her eye as Harry took Ginny's hand and looked at the redhead questioningly. She nodded and let him lead her out and away from the crowd, and they began to dance.

After this Arthur and Molly Weasley joined them, and Neville and Luna came next, followed by nearly every other couple in the room. Aberforth looked to Minerva, and she blushed before taking his hand and dancing with him along with the rest of them. Ron was sitting alone along the wall, frowning and bouncing Teddy on his knee. George had asked Hermione if he could bring Angelina Johnson along, and the two of them entered the group of dancers. Hermione just caught Percy approaching his mum and stealing her from his dad before Severus had them spinning again.

It was late afternoon before the wedding was officially over, and after many well-wishings, most of the guests had gone. Only the Weasleys and Harry were left, besides some of the other staff. Fleur and Bill left after both of them congratulated the newlyweds, and Fleur actually threw her arms around Hermione and wiped a tear away from her face. Molly rushed forward and kissed both of Hermione's cheeks, pulling her away from Severus and folding her in a warm, motherly hug. She sniffed, blinking, and smiled at Hermione before nodding to Severus. Arthur came and shook Severus' hand before Hermione's and stepped back as well. George and Angelina were next, both of them hugging Hermione and Angelina giving her an extra squeeze and a whisper in her ear before she stepped away. Percy walked up and shook Severus' hand. Then he turned to Hermione, hand still extended, and stopped, seemingly undecided as to what to do.

"I guess I missed my chance," he said, grinning at her.

Hermione smiled back and stepped forward to give him a hug rather than shaking his hand. He nodded to both of them before stepping back to take Teddy from Ron, who had walked up. The youngest Weasley son was grimacing, but he offered his hand to shake with Severus. There was a tense moment of hesitation before the groom reached out and shook the waiting hand, looking Ron in the eye. Ron wrinkled his nose and looked like he might start vomiting slugs, but then he turned and saw Hermione. She was beautiful, but to him she was so much more; she was the best friend and the stunning, brilliant young woman whom he had managed to lose.

He offered his hand to her as well. She took it but pulled him into a half-hug before stepping away again. He took a deep breath and released her hand, probably for the last time. He moved out of the way just in time to miss Ginny, who flew into Hermione's waiting arms and hugged her, sobbing into the older girl's shoulder and smiling and laughing all at the same time. When they leaned away from each other, still in one another's arms, she reached up and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Congratulations," she said, half-sobbing, half-squealing in delight. "I'm gonna miss you this summer at the house."

Hermione smiled back and wiped a few tears away from under her own eyes. "I'll miss you too," she said, blinking back more tears.

Molly stepped forward once more to pat Hermione's arm and say quietly, "Now don't make yourself scarce, dear," before she stepped back and linked arms with her Husband and their family turned away together and left the Great Hall.

That left the staff members, who mulled about together at the far end of the room, and Harry, who had been standing nearby and waiting. He walked up and shook Severus' hand, smiling and offering Hermione his congratulations, giving her a half-hug before turning and strolling towards the doors.

Hermione watched him go, and just before he reached them she left Severus' side, lifting her skirts and running. "Harry!"

He turned in surprise and had only just seen her coming when she threw arms around his neck and hugged him tight. He glanced past her shoulder at Severus, whose face was impassive, though he looked bemused. Then he hugged Hermione back just as fiercely.

"What is it?" he asked.

She smiled up at him through her tears and whispered, "Thank you. For everything. For always being there . . . and for understanding what no one else did."

He smiled back, feeling his own eyes getting wetter. "Nah," he dismissed her gratitude with a grin, "Thank you for being a best friend and a reliable source of knowledge I could always turn to."

She blushed and let him go, and he nodded, smiling one more time at her before he left.

Then she turned back to Severus, who had walked to where she stood. The staff members all congratulated her and Minerva and Pomona began waving their wands, changing the Great Hall back to its former appearance. Hermione took Severus' waiting arm and walked with him towards the teachers' quarters.

They reached the lounge and Hermione went towards her door, but Severus held onto her arm and shook his head. She looked at him questioningly, but he only said, "Tilly."

Hermione jumped when a small house elf with an appearance much like Dobby or Kreacher apparated into the room. She looked from the elf to Severus and then said, "You own a house elf?"

He smirked at her but addressed the elf. "Did you do as I asked?"

Tilly bowed low to the ground, her nose and the tips of her floppy ears touching the floor. "Yes, Master, Tilly did what Master asked."

While they were conversing Hermione thought back to all the times tea had been in her room waiting for her all those mornings she woke up. Now it made sense; Severus had been sending Tilly to bring the tea all along. Smiling, Hermione pulled away from him and went to her room, but he put a hand on her shoulder. "She's moved your things already."

Hermione nodded. Somehow she had known that much. "I just want to see it one more time . . . before we go."

He nodded and released her shoulder, letting her walk alone into her rooms. She would be back as the transfiguration teacher again the next year and the rooms would be hers again or she would move into Severus', but she was going to Spinner's end with Severus for the summer.

He waited in the lounge, giving Tilly more instructions and then watching the door for Hermione's reappearance. Meanwhile, she was walking around her room, turning and looking at it all. It seemed such a short while before that she had walked in for the first time and altered the room's appearance until she was satisfied. That had only been the beginning of her year at Hogwarts, and she thought briefly over everything that had happened, looking from the now-empty shelf to the place on the bed that Crookshanks usually curled up in. She wondered how he liked Spinner's End. She walked through the rooms, looking around at the places where things were missing; her trunk wasn't at the foot of her bed, the wardrobe was empty, and the things under her bed were gone.

Taking a deep breath, she turned and left her rooms for the last time for that summer, and as she stepped out of the door the doe carved into it faded into the pattern around it until there was no patronus there any longer. Hermione stared at her door, looking around at the other doors, some of which no longer bore patronus carvings. These included Severus', which looked bare without his doe bounding on it.

Hermione sighed, smiling up at Severus and glancing around the lounge again before they left it, walking together down the corridor and up the stairs, passing the place where Hermione had come careening around a corner and crashed into Severus. This brought back memories for both of them, though neither spoke. When they reached the entrance hall Minerva came and bid them congratulations and farewell, as did several of the other staff. Then they walked out through the grounds until they reached the boundary-point and when they had stepped over it they apparated to a muggle street and Hermione found herself looking up at a house that possessed a rather dark, dreary appearance.

She smiled to herself and tightened her grip on Severus' arm lightly; the place wouldn't be dreary for much longer. They walked together up the steps and onto the porch, to the door. Severus opened it for her and held it until she had stepped inside, and then he closed it behind them. He was worried that she would hate the place as soon as she saw it, but she was looking around, seeming rather pleased with everything that she saw.

_**One Month Later**_

Severus opened his eyes and looked around the bedroom. He glanced at the window, where large drips of water slid down the glass as the rain beat heavily against it. He reached instinctively to curl his arm around his wife, but found her place in the bed empty. Frowning, he blinked and sat up, searching the room for her. As soon as he sat up, the blankets slid down and exposed his neck and collar bone. He clenched his jaw when he was hit with the frigid air around him and fastened the top buttons on his shirt before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up, throwing the blanket back over the mattress and hoping it would hold in the warmth until he could get back.

He walked to the door, which was slightly ajar, and stepped into the hall, moving down the stairs and scowling at the cold floor beneath his bare feet. Where was she?

He reached the bottom of the stairs and turned a corner, opening a door and stopping in surprise when the temperature of the air changed drastically. It was rather warm in the kitchen, and he closed the door behind him, knowing before he even saw her that he had found her. He turned his back on the door and glanced at the clock before sighing and watching her for a moment. She was curled up in her favorite chair by the fire, a heavy book clutched loosely in her arms and the newspaper spread across her lap. A no longer steaming cup of tea was sitting beside her chair, where she had undoubtedly set it so that she could read.

He walked up to her and set a hand on her shoulder, and she stirred, opening her eyes and focusing on him. She blinked a few times and raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Morning," she muttered as she curled more closely around the book, causing the paper in her lap to fall to the floor.

Severus smirked at her for a moment before he took the newspaper and the tea from the floor and set them on the table across the room. Then he came and painstakingly extracted the book from Hermione's hands, sliding it back into its place on the shelf in the wall. She opened her eyes to look at him again and took a deep breath but said nothing. "What are you doing up at this ungodly hour?" he asked quietly.

She frowned. "I needed to get started on planning classes . . ." but she trailed off halfway through her sentence.

Severus looked closer and saw a crumpled wad of papers in her lap, and he took them and smoothed them carefully. Sure enough, they were the beginnings of her plans for the school year. He sighed; even he wasn't this meticulous and worried about classes. It was hardly the middle of summer! Smirking at her tired expression, he leaned down and put his arms around her, picking her up.

She shook her head weakly and mumbled something about transfiguration for sixth years, but he turned and carried her out of the kitchen against her murmured complaints. The floor didn't seem as cold with her warm in his arms, and he took her back to their room and laid her in the bed, pulling the blankets around her. She curled up, having fallen asleep in his arms as he carried her. He shook his head, smirking still as he turned and lit the fire in the room with a flick of his wand. Tilly was supposed to do that, but for Hermione's sake he would spare the old elf most of his wrath.

He slid into bed beside her and cringed at the cool touch of the blankets. Hermione curled up against him, molding herself to him even in her sleep, and he wrapped her in his arms, comfortable with her warm form pressed against him.

He buried his face in her unruly curls and fell asleep with her.

Though she thought he had, he hadn't yet stopped noticing the differences in his home since she had come to live with him. The windows were always clean and clear; there were even more books on the shelves that were built into almost every inch of free space in every wall; there were warm-colored, homely rugs on the floors of most of the rooms; the sheets on the bed were lighter and not so dark and dreary as before; the walls were a lighter brown and not gray wood as they had been before her arrival; the fires in every room burned in hearths that she had carefully cleaned and decorated with trinkets or small books; Tilly was walking around and acting happy and pleased and was more than willing to comply and do whatever was asked of her; there was a certain ginger cat that lent the house a good, welcoming feel; the outside of the house had received repairs and new wood; and everything about the place had been changed to give off a more cheery, comfortable feeling.

He often thought that Hermione's impact and changes to their home were much like her impact on and the changes she had made to him. He saw things in a brighter light when she was around, and since she had come into his life it was much easier to see things in a good way rather than a dark one. He had given her free reign to change their home as she pleased, fearing that she would hate the place. However, she had made changes that kept the old building and its appearance, changing it from the inside out into a warm home rather than an unwelcoming one.

Severus curled his arm more closely around his wife, pulling her closer. She pressed her face into his chest and sighed in her sleep; there was no place more comfortable than where she was in that moment. And Severus had never been so content to lie in bed and waste away the day without rising.

Later she would get up and make them tea, and they would sit and read together or he would go to the basement, which he used as a potions laboratory, and brew something for the Ministry or for Saint Mungo's while she sat in the corner and scribbled notes about classes in one of her many precious notebooks.

Severus had always hated returning to Spinner's End, but now he loathed leaving and despised being anywhere but there, unless Hermione was with him. She adored their home after she had changed bits of it, and could not have dreamed of a better home for them. Unbeknownst to Severus, she was dreaming of several small children curled up in their own beds in the bedrooms next-door and downstairs as she slept in his arms. She had gone so far as to pick out names for them, but had yet to speak to Severus seriously about having a family in a few years. She wanted to enjoy her time as a new wife for a while before she took on the responsibilities of being a mother, but her thoughts often drifted to the way that the rain hitting the roof reminded her of the patter of small feet running in the halls.

And she was unconcerned that Severus wouldn't want children; she was sure she could get him to come round to the idea after a bit.

**Okay, please, please review! I would absolutely LOVE to know what you thought of this one. Thank you all so very much for reading my story, and if you were wondering, no, this is not the last chapter. We still have a few more things to include in their story before it's over, so stick with me! I love you all! ~Taelr**


	31. The Burrow

Hermione stood on her toes as Severus leaned down to kiss her. He straightened and looked down at her, smirking at her concerned expression. "I assure you, I _can_ care for myself for a week."

She smirked back, and the worried look clouding her face began to clear. She smiled at him. "You know, I'm sure Arthur and Molly would be more than willing to have you at the Burrow as well."

He raised an eyebrow at her, questioning whether she really believed this. She gave a defiant smirk and sighed, looking away. If anyone, it was the youngest Weasley boy Severus would have been concerned about. That one had a temper and if he was still as upset over losing Hermione as he had been the last time they'd seen him then there was no telling whether he would kill Severus in his sleep or not. Severus smirked at this thought, amused.

Hermione threw her arms around his neck and hugged him again, smiling into his chest when he pulled her closer. She stepped back when he let her go and turned towards the door. It was early in the morning and there was a thick fog in the still-dim street as she stepped off of the porch and away from the house. She walked onto the edge of the street, passing the protective boundaries around the house, and turned around to look at Severus, who stood in the window, watching her. He nodded to her and she smiled in return before she turned in place, apparating to the Burrow.

She felt her feet touch firm ground and looked around. There was no fog here, and the sun was rising over the brim of the earth at her back. She smiled at the golden light that made everything seem more beautiful and instinctively reached to the pocket of her robes to feel her beaded bag, which held all of her things for the week with her friends. She took a deep breath and walked towards the house before her, stopping in front of the door. She lifted her hand and had only knocked once when the door was thrown open and someone threw their arms around her, embracing her with such force that she was nearly knocked over backwards. She reached up and brushed the wild lengths of red hair out of her face before hugging Ginny back.

It had only been a month or so since they'd last seen each other, but both saw changes in one another's appearance. Hermione held her friend at arm's length to get a good look at her and smiled. "I think you've grown a bit," she said, finding that she didn't have to look down at Ginny's face anymore.

Ginny smiled back. "Just a bit," she agreed. Then she bit her lip, looking over Hermione. "Your hair's longer than ever. Don't you ever cut it?"

Hermione laughed and tossed her head, brushing her once-again-unruly curls over her shoulder. "No, I like it long. I thought about cutting it after the wedding but Severus wouldn't hear of it."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "He wouldn't let you cut it?" She sounded serious, though there was a twinkle of amused curiosity in her eyes.

Hermione smirked. "He said he didn't much care for the idea of me cutting it." She smiled then. "But I'm sure if I wanted it badly enough he would have given in."

Ginny laughed as they linked arms and walked into the house, closing the door behind them. Inside there were hugs all around and Hermione got one from everyone but Ron, who was looking at her like he wasn't sure whether she was carrying some kind of disease or not. He stood in a corner, watching as if he was observing some kind of animal to see whether it showed signs of the plague. She chose to ignore this rude behavior and focused instead on everyone else's warm welcomes. When there was finally a bit of quiet after the initial greeting and polite questions about her and Severus' health and their marriage, Ginny whisked her up to the room they would share and sat her down on the bed.

Hermione waited for the interrogation to begin, and soon enough Ginny was sitting beside her looking starved for information. "What's the house like? How big is it? Is it dreadful as I've heard? Is Spinner's End as ugly and damp as they say? Have you got any friends there? What's it like, living with Sna—I mean Severus? Are there any muggle children living near you? What do you do all day? Do you stay in the house or can you leave when you like? Have you been out at all since the two of you left Hogwarts? Have you got any pets besides Crookshanks? Does Severus ever have any acquaintances that stop by? What's the house like? Do you do things the muggle way or with magic most of the time? Do you miss the Burrow ever? Did you miss me?"

Hermione smiled and hugged Ginny again. "Yes, I missed you, all the time. And I miss the Burrow sometimes. Because I miss you, your mum and dad, George, and Percy. And Bill and Charlie whenever they were in, and Teddy of course."

Ginny tried to hide it, but Hermione could see her frown slightly. "You never miss Ron?"

Hermione bit her lip. How could she explain what she felt for Ron? She took a deep breath.  
"Sometimes, but I don't miss us together like we were. I miss when we were friends, best friends with Harry. I miss when I could tell the two of them about anything and they could do the same with me." She saw the way Ginny had looked mildly hopeful and then the way the younger girl's face fell. "I never miss him . . . romantically . . . if that makes sense."

Ginny smiled sadly. "I know. I mean, I guessed as much. Severus probably wouldn't be too happy knowing you missed Ron anyways."

Hermione smirked at the thought of some of things her husband had said about Ron during the past few months. "Now," she said, wanting to change the suddenly dreary feel of their conversation, "About all of those questions earlier. Spinner's End isn't such a bad place. Severus let me do whatever I wanted to the house, and I fixed it up quite a bit and changed it to my liking."

Ginny cocked her head to the side, waiting. "He doesn't mind?"

Hermione shook her head. "No." She thought over more of Ginny's questions, remembering them. "I don't really have any friends there; most of the neighbors are elderly muggles who aren't very friendly. There is one family with a little boy there, but they're so much like the Dursleys I've been keeping clear of them. The house is big, two floors not counting the basement. It's nice, with two bedrooms and a study upstairs—there's a bathroom there too—and another bedroom on the ground level with the kitchen and the great room, next to the smaller bathroom. The basement is almost all Severus' office for making potions and such. The house is quite nice and comfortable, actually. Cold on rainy days and at night sometimes but not too badly. Old wooden floor everywhere but it's sort of beautiful in an ancient kind of way I suppose. There's a fireplace in every bedroom and in the great room, which joins with the kitchen. Crookshanks is the only one living there besides Tilly, Severus and me."

Her eyes lit up and she smiled at Ginny. "And books everywhere, like you wouldn't believe! Every available inch of space in those wooden walls has been turned into a shelf and is crammed—maybe that's not the right word because they're all lined and organized so neatly—full with books."

Ginny smiled back, recognizing Hermione's awe and amazement at this feature of her home. "What kind of books?"

Hermione was looking at Ginny, but she was seeing the books in the walls back at Spinner's End. "Every kind of book. Potion books; Transfiguration books; books on every subject; whether for the teacher or the student, adult or child; History books about magic and about muggles; books that hold secrets more terrible than anything in the restricted section at the library at Hogwarts; books that tell about magical discoveries or uses of spells from a different perspective; ancient journals; massive texts about Herbology and keeping a magical garden; age old replicas of some of the first magical books ever written; everything, Ginny." She smiled, finishing, "And Severus has even let me put my own collection in the great room along one of the walls near the corner. He didn't even complain about the muggle fairytales and silly muggle novels I put there."

Ginny smiled, but waited for Hermione to continue her description of married life with Severus.

And Hermione didn't need any prodding. "Living with Severus is nice," she said after a short pause. "I usually wake up first and go downstairs to make tea, and Severus will come down not much later and read the paper. Tilly is usually good at remembering to light the fires and stock them with wood every morning and to bring the paper in and leave it on the table, but she's so old, sometimes she forgets. And I think something's happened to her head; she has problems with remembering at times and will often stare blankly around her and be confused about what she's supposed to be doing. But she's a good house elf, and when she forgets to light the fires I'm usually awake before Severus so I can do it without him finding out."

Ginny smirked at her. "Are you arguing with him about freeing Tilly then, or have you realized that she needs to be tied to your home in order to have a good life?"

Hermione blushed. "I've sort of given up on S.P.E.W. in the past year, and Tilly isn't right in her mind so she wouldn't do well on her own."

Ginny nodded, grinning. "Well go on, you haven't told me everything yet I hope?"

Hermione smiled. "Hardly. Severus doesn't prefer to eat in the morning and just has his tea, so I'll eat my breakfast alone or with Tilly's company. He usually spends a few hours a day at least in the basement brewing potions and I'll spend that time reading in the great room or sitting in the corner of his office watching him. I'd never really seen him brew a potion before and it's mesmerizing to watch; he's so quick with his hands and expert with his knife when he prepares the ingredients. And he moves so carefully but with a sureness I can't really explain. He's memorized probably most or all of the potions in his books but he always is careful to read through and follow the instructions meticulously. I love to watch him work."

Hermione didn't mention that she liked the way Severus' office smelled because it brought back so many memories for her.

"We eat lunch and dinner together and he always complains because I like to cook things the muggle way often and I only use magic to clean up afterwards. He thinks it takes too much work when I could just use magic for all of it, but I like cooking without my wand; it makes me feel more accomplished knowing I had to work for the result.

"I spend most of my day reading or watching him work because I'm free to go where I like but I enjoy being at home. Or sometimes we spend whole days talking and not doing anything useful. It's nice. Severus goes out occasionally to buy or collect any potion ingredients he's running low on or needs—though he does this very rarely because he has such a vast store of ingredients in his office—and when he does I sometimes go with him. If I don't go along then I stay home and read or plan lessons for this year's school. I've visited my parents more than once since the wedding and Severus has come along twice but I don't mind going alone.

"Severus doesn't mind leaving me home alone so much but he seems more than hesitant to let me go anywhere alone." Seeing the frown on Ginny's face, she added quickly, "But not because he doesn't trust me or something like that; I think he's just protective, afraid something will happen to me. It took me a while but I caught on and he seems more nervous about something happening to me when he's not there than ever before. And he feels like he failed me because of what happened in the Chamber of Secrets. I still don't think he's forgiven himself for being unable to protect me."

They were quiet for a few moments, both of them thinking, and then Hermione brightened. "I convinced him to come on picnics with me twice already, when the sun was out."

Ginny looked eager to hear more. "Where do you go?"

Hermione realized she hadn't given Ginny all the details of Severus' proposal and told about the place where he had picnicked once with his mother. Ginny seemed charmed by the idea of the place and what memories it held for Severus between his mother and Hermione, and was more than interested in the story of how the picnics had gone.

Hermione spent the next hour describing the area where the picnics and the proposal had taken place but eventually gave up trying to put into words the beauty of the forest and the perfect little clearing. She grabbed Ginny's hand and said, "Shall I just show you, then?"

Ginny nodded, looking excited, and the two of them ran downstairs to tell Molly that they were leaving but were stopped when they found breakfast on the table. They ate quickly, leaving everyone else at the table and yelling gleefully over their shoulders, "We'll be back before lunch!" as they ran out the door.

As soon as they reached the boundary of the protective enchantments around the Burrow, Hermione squeezed Ginny's hand and turned in place, and the two of them disapparated to the clearing where Severus had proposed. Hermione took them to the very place where she and Severus had apparated to; the edge of the clearing. When they arrived and Ginny had taken in their surroundings Hermione led her to the place in the middle of the clearing, the place where Severus had proposed and where the picnics had all been. Ginny was awed by the beauty around her just as Hermione had been the first time she saw the place, and the older witch knew she would never quite get used to how stunning the forest and the grass and the perfect blue sky and the puffy white clouds and the flowers and the birds were.

They sat down in the grass, gazing around them in wonder for a few moments. Eventually they ended up flat on their backs in the grass, staring up at the sky and pointing out shapes in the clouds. Ginny's turn came to tell about her life for the past month and a half without her best friend and they talked for hours.

When they stood up to leave, Ginny sighed and looked around sadly. "It's so perfect and pretty here," she said, gazing around once more before they apparated back to the Burrow, "I can't imagine what it would be like to have the man you love proposing in the midst of all of it. I'd be completely overwhelmed with happiness."

Hermione smiled. "That about sums up the experience, yes."

Ginny grinned and linked arms with Hermione and they disapparated.

When they were walking towards the Burrow, now inside the protective boundary, Hermione saw Ginny's wistful look behind them as if she hoped to see the place they'd come from.  
"We can meet there and have picnics of our own in the future," she promised, and a smile brightened the redhead's face.

They entered the house just in time to see Molly waving her wand lazily at a group of platters and trays of food setting themselves on the table. Everyone looked up and smiled at the two girls when they walked in and closed the door behind them. "How was the outing?" Arthur asked.

"Good," the girls chorused.

Seeing their questioning looks directed his way, he explained, "There's not been much going on in my department at the Ministry lately, so I'm home early today."

The girls nodded and smiled. Both of them looked even happier when a familiar boy with red hair walked into the room. "Percy!"

He grinned at them and glanced at his father. "You could say that not much has been happening in quite a few of the departments at the Ministry, or at least not enough to keep all of us in for today."

It was the first time Hermione had seen him since the wedding and she hurried to hug him. "I thought I wasn't seeing you until tonight," she said.

He nodded. "I thought so too!"

They laughed as they sat down for lunch and Molly hollered for George, Ron, and Harry, the latter having arrived while the girls were gone. Hermione jumped up from her seat as soon as the three boys entered the room, throwing her arms around Harry. He hugged her back and sat down beside Ginny, grinning at them. Hermione had seen George that morning but she playfully hit his arm anyways, coming to an awkward halt with the affectionate greetings when Ron was the only boy standing before her.

There was a moment of silence as everyone at the table tried to look busy with loading their plates and beginning to eat their food. Then Hermione took a deep breath and said, "I didn't get to say a proper _hello_ this morning," and held out her hand to shake.

Ron looked hesitant to take her hand.

In his moment of indecision, Molly asked, "Where did you girls go? You were gone for a while."

Ron reached out to take Hermione's hand just as Ginny said cheerily, "Hermione showed me the place where Severus proposed."

In an instant everyone at the table became very loud and interested in hearing about the place. None of them noticed when Ron recoiled sharply from Hermione's outstretched hand as if she had turned to some disgusting object. His expression was hard and a grimace was set firmly in his features as he walked around Hermione, giving her a wide berth and taking his seat, across the table from where she was so he didn't have to be close to her. He refused to look at her as she sat down and began putting food onto her plate. She glanced at him occasionally but he never looked up from his food, which he was glaring at quite ferociously. She frowned at her own food and managed to enjoy it even though she hadn't much of an appetite all of the sudden. Why had Ron looked at her that way? As if she had been dirtied, contaminated? He had never looked at her that way before.

He'd been glaring murderously at Severus long enough, looking sour around Hermione, but never recoiled from her as if she was unclean. Was it because she was married now, because she was living with Severus, that she was suddenly in his eyes filthy, different?

Her thoughts were turned away from Ron's behavior when George—who was sitting beside her—poked her in the side and asked how "Old Snapey" was doing. She laughed out loud at this nickname, replying, "He's quite well. And I'm sure he'll be simply thrilled with the affectionate label you've given him."

George made a show of nodding once, so dramatically that his nose brushed the pool of gravy on his plate, and said, "Of course." After he'd straightened, a spot of gravy was shining on the tip of his nose. Hermione couldn't keep from laughing when George was around. "How's Angelina?" she asked.

Ginny dropped her fork quite suddenly and looked up. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, Hermione, George has-"

She was silenced by George's expression, which clearly said _Let me tell her myself_. Ginny blushed deep red like her hair and bit her lip, grinning down at her plate as George turned to look at Hermione, head held high with pride. "I've asked her to marry me."

Hermione's mouth fell open in surprise, but she was smiling. "Really? That's wonderful!"

She hugged George, who grinned at her unabashedly. "Indeed it is. She doesn't even think she'll mind living in the flat above the joke shop."

Hermione let out a laugh at the idea, smiling even wider at George, who was beaming. She looked around at the people at the table, wondering what they thought of George and Angelina's engagement. Arthur and molly were smiling, looking proud and pleased even while they shook their heads at the idea of George taking his wife to live above a joke store.

George went into detail about his plans for his and Angelina's future and everyone at the table forgot everything but their food and what he was saying. After the meal Ginny helped her mum clean everything up with magic while Hermione took Teddy and held him close, grinning down at his hair, which was green at the moment. She had noticed him gazing often at the Weasley's flaming red hair, and more than once his own had changed to that color as well. Now he reached up, muttering and mumbling the words he was learning as she made faces at him. She realized how big he was and remembered that he was now over a year old.

This brought on another wave of memories from the past year and Hermione sighed and smiled at the baby as he waved his arms at the other side of the room, where Harry and Ron were standing. Harry had been spending plenty of time at the Burrow—he lived there, after all—and he was Teddy's favorite person. Teddy looked longingly at the young man with the lightning scar and Hermione walked over in spite of her desire to keep away from Ron. Harry had his back to them but he saw Ron looking over his shoulder and turned around, a grin brightening his face when he saw the baby. He swept Teddy up into his arms and turned a few circles, holding the baby high while the green-haired child squealed and laughed in delight.

Hermione stepped back, watching Harry and Teddy play, and glanced up at Ron, who seemed to be unable to take his eyes off of Harry but at the same time completely uninterested in what his friend was doing. Hermione's attention was dragged away when someone touched her arm, and she looked up to find Percy grinning at her. He had looked at Harry and Teddy but looked back at her and smiled even wider. "So I heard you were doing well," he prodded.

She nodded and they walked over to lean against the wall and talk. After giving a brief description of married life with Severus she asked, "What about you, hmm? George is engaged, Harry and Ginny seem serious, and Bill's married; how about your romantic life?"

He grinned but shook his head, shrugging. "No one for me at the moment. Not even a girlfriend. And it's not that I'm too busy; just haven't found anyone yet."

Hermione nodded. They were silent for a moment and then she elbowed him playfully in the arm. "Well get a move on or you'll have a younger sibling married before you even have a girlfriend!"

He laughed and raised his eyebrows, staring at the floor for a minute. "I don't doubt it. Harry will wait another year or two, I'm sure, but after that he and Ginny will be engaged, getting married. And George and Angelina aren't waiting two more years. They'll be moving out, living above the joke shop." He had turned to watch Harry and Teddy again and added in a quieter tone, "and having children." Then his attention was drawn to Ron. "And Ron . . ."

Hermione laughed at the way he trailed off and made a face. "And Ron . . .?" she prodded, wanting to know what he was thinking.

"You were good for him," Percy said, shrugging and looking up at her from the floor as he grinned. "But he managed to lose you," he shook his head and licked his lips, "and I think it'll be a while before he moves on."

Hermione bit her lip but Percy gave a genuine smile, brightening the suddenly serious topic of conversation. "But he will move on, it's just gonna take a bit of time for him to come to grips with the fact that now he really can't ever get you back," he said. Then he sniggered. "I mean who wants to challenge an ex-death eater for the one thing in this world that makes his life worth living? Even Ron knows it would be a stupid idea. And you're never going to look at anyone without comparing him to Severus. Ron will probably end up with . . ." he narrowed his eyes, smirking at his younger brother as he thought ". . . Pansy Parkinson," he said.

Hermione choked in surprise and they both laughed, hard. "Of all the girls you could have named," she spluttered, still laughing.

He grinned. "All right, maybe I'm joking. But he won't end up with Lavender; they just don't have the right personalities to get along well together."

Hermione nodded. Both of them were still recovering from their laughter when Ginny joined them leaning against the wall and before long Harry brought Teddy and came to talk as well. They eventually moved to the table, all of them pretending not to notice when Ron glared at his siblings and Harry for deserting him, and stalked up the stairs. He would _not_ be in Hermione's presence if he could help it.

Hermione bounced a laughing Teddy on her knee until he started to get tired and then cradled him in her arms until he fell asleep. She handed him off to Molly, who took him to her room to sleep, and then the friends got back to talking and didn't have to worry about whispering because of the sleeping baby.

Hermione was awed, holding Teddy in her arms; she had always dreamt of having children but now she actually _could_. She was married, she had the ability and the right to raise a child of her own, and it was a strange new feeling that sent a thrill through her. She smirked, thinking back with amusement to Argus' drunken comment about Snape children. She would very much like to raise a little boy who looked somewhat like his father. She wondered if Severus had ever even held a baby in his life and if he had what he had felt looking down at it. What would he feel holding his own flesh and blood, the physical thing that had come of his and Hermione's love?

She smiled and slipped back into the conversation with her friends again, wondering in the back of her mind what Severus was doing at that moment and hoping that Tilly remembered to feed Crookshanks and light the fires during the week that her Mistress was gone.

**I am so sorry I haven't updated in so long. I was sick with a bad bug for the last week and couldn't write or do much, so please forgive me for making you wait! I know this chapter isn't the longest but the next few will be nice and long and hold some pleasant surprises and perhaps George and Angelina's wedding in a bit. Thank you all for sticking with me this long and please review if you have any questions, comments, corrections or advice! Thank you all so much for reading my story, it means so much to me! Love you all! ~Taelr**


	32. Memories

Hermione sighed as she entered the Great Hall, looking around and suppressing a grin. She was pleased with the changes this year and couldn't keep from smiling at everyone. She had returned for her job as transfiguration teacher, but this year she would be the head of Gryffindor house. That was a daunting but exciting idea and she anticipated the beginning of school, only a week away. Being a head of house would add heavily to her duties and give her more work and responsibility, but she looked forward to the challenge.

Some of the teachers of her student years had been replaced this year. Neville had taken over the Herbology teaching from Pomona Sprout, who would make monthly check-ups at the school to see how he was doing with his job. Minerva was still headmistress, Sybill was still teaching divination, and Hagrid had given up his job teaching care of magical creatures in order to spend more time with Grawp and Buckbeak. Hermione suspected that the half-giant had some new pet he needed to care for but as of yet she had found no evidence to prove her suspicions true. Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank had taken over the care of magical creatures class in Hagrid's absence.

Slughorn had retired again, leaving the position of defense against the dark arts teacher empty. He had announced his retirement at the end of the school year and left any hopeful replacements a summer to think over their decision. Hermione had been pleasantly surprised only a few weeks before she and Severus left for Hogwarts when an owl had arrived from McGonagall, bearing the news that Draco had asked for the job teaching defense against the dark arts. The headmistress had given him the position, remembering his excellent work when he took over the year before, and Hermione smiled in the direction of the pale, blond young man across the hall. He smirked, nodding in her direction once, but she knew he was still the changed man she had come to respect and even call friend over the past school year.

While Neville and Draco would now be at the school full time and working as her colleagues, there was a new empty place that had opened in her life at Hogwarts because Ginny was no longer a student there. The only Weasley daughter had first wanted to pursue a career working as a healer at Saint Mungo's or somewhere like the hospital but her plans had changed when she received several owls, each from a different professional Quidditch team. They all wanted her to join them as a Seeker or come and try out so that she could be a seeker in the years to come. She had accepted their requests to try out, letting them know that they had some competition and she was still undecided as to which team she would choose.

Harry and Ron were dealing with anything they were needed for at the Ministry, so there was no time for them to visit Hogwarts, and Hermione doubted Ron would come around whether he had time or not. Aberforth had accepted Minerva's request and would come to the school monthly to teach the students Latin to further their understanding of spells and incantations. He was in Hogsmeade at the moment but would be at the school on the first of September to welcome the students along with the rest of the staff.

Hermione took her seat, smiling once more because while the seating arrangements had changed slightly since the year before, she would still be seated between Severus and Neville. Draco would be on Severus' other side and Hermione remembered with a laugh how Neville had politely requested that he be given a seat away from the young ex Death Eater. Neville was still getting used to the idea of Hermione being friends with one and the wife of another ex Death Eater. He couldn't quite understand the good that Hermione saw in Draco and in Severus, but he was trying his best and had even managed to greet Severus upon the Snapes' return to the school. Hermione felt sorry for him; he'd never actually gotten over his fear of his old potions professor.

As the other staff members came to their seats Hermione wondered if a boggart would, in Neville's presence, turn once again into Severus. She found the idea amusing and remembered the sight of Severus dressed in the clothes of Neville's Gram, an ancient hat with an ugly stuffed vulture crowning his head. The image of Severus dressed like an old woman had never left her, and she stifled a laugh as her husband took his seat beside her. He glanced her way, raising an eyebrow, but she only smirked and turned to talk to Neville, who had just sat down.

She had a strange feeling of nostalgia when walking the halls of the school, especially the dungeon, before the students had arrived. And because she and Severus now shared his room in the teachers' quarters, all of the memories of her weeks spent caring for him and nursing him back to health were clear and constant in her mind. He noticed how she often had a faraway look in her eyes, and whenever she entered their rooms she would gaze around and seem to be reliving some experience she'd had there.

One night their conversation turned to when he had been close to death and she had cared for him. Severus seemed uncomfortable with the subject, as he was still irked by the idea of having to rely on anyone for anything, even if that person was his wife. He found a way to make her more uncomfortable, though, and smirked during a pause in their talking.

She frowned up at him from the edge of the bed, where she was seated. "What is it?"

He continued smirking for another moment, leaving her to silently guess at what he was thinking and why he was looking so smug.

"Well?" she asked again.

"Do you remember what I told you when I was in your rooms that first time, the day that I confessed my love?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and waiting to see whether she would catch on to what he was speaking of.

Hermione frowned. "We talked about quite a few things," she said, biting her lip as she stared at the space past Severus' shoulder and thought back. What could he be talking about? And then she remembered one of the things he had told her, but not gone into detail about because they had been distracted and eventually kissed each other rather than talking. "You said you didn't sleep while I was awake or watching you," she said, watching his face and wondering if she was right.

He inclined his head slightly. "Indeed."

Hermione blinked a few times, still biting her lip. Then she frowned, but soon enough her face cleared, and then she looked alarmed and her cheeks flushed pink. "That night I . . ." she trailed off when she saw his devious smile.

"Shared every emotion you were feeling and every detail about your life, especially from that day?" Severus prodded.

Hermione chewed her lip absently. "Hmm," was all she hummed in response.

"The day you ended your relationship with Weasley," he said, looking triumphant because he had found something she was mildly embarrassed about or uncomfortable with. Though he would never admit it entirely to himself, Severus had to have the upper hand. In an argument, in a regular conversation, anything; he simply _had_ to be at the advantage or in a better position than the other person or people, who he subconsciously thought of as opponents.

Hermione nodded. "Did it bother you much, me spilling my heart out like that?"

He chuckled and raised his eyebrows momentarily. "It was an experience like nothing else I'd ever been through," he said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm serious. I mean, I know you didn't feel anything for me then . . . except perhaps pure hatred and loathing . . . but did you care at all that Ron and I were over and I was going through such painful emotional turmoil?"

He smirked, seeming amused by her question. "I wasn't uncaring about you being hurt as you were, but I was relatively unconcerned. However, I felt-" he stopped abruptly, as if no longer able to speak.

She raised her eyebrows. "You felt?"

He had averted his dark eyes, but now they were drawn back to her inquiring, light ones. They gazed at one another for a few moments, her pleading with him to go on and finish what he had been saying and him keeping a firm and resounding _NO_ in his own eyes. At last she sighed and looked away, biting her lip. She was obviously annoyed with him for keeping something from her, but he found the look on her face more attractive and enticing than anything. Her lips were pursed in a slight pout and she had narrowed her eyes. In fact, she was glaring rather harshly at the shelf of books lining the wall.

He sighed, and she turned back to look at him, knowing he was about to give in. "I felt . . . something," he said finally.

"Something," she repeated, sounding a bit irritated. "That's it?"

He chuckled dryly. "In all truth I _would_ give you more, but I don't know myself what I felt for you then."

He leaned back in his chair, watching her face carefully and keeping his impassive. He would _not_ give away the fact that he knew _some_ of what he had felt for her. No, she must never know that he had begun to feel for her so early on, even if he himself had not recognized what he was feeling or acknowledged it. He had definitely not accepted it. Not then.

Now he let his gaze drift over her and the smallest of smiles tugged at the corners of his lips. It was getting later in the day and she had bathed already, and was now free of makeup. Her still-damp hair hung about her shoulders in messy, unkempt honey-colored curls, and she looked pale in the dim light of the room. He couldn't help but be reminded of how much she looked the way she had during her many weeks of caring for him while he was recovering from the Dark Mark and his near-death experience.

_That_ was when he had first felt something for her. Perhaps there hadn't really been any emotion at first, just a genuine, simple attraction when one morning, after waking up to see her sitting beside him, waiting patiently for him, he began to notice how beautiful she was. The days she had cared for him she had worn no makeup, her hair had been tied back in a messy bun, and she had hardly cared how wrinkled or creased her clothes were. And after a while of staying constantly at his side she had been pale and weak, unhealthy because of her lack of movement and her lack of hope. Even then, looking tired and sickly and as if she might collapse at any moment, he had found her to be beautiful. He knew now that he had truly seen her beauty shining from the inside then, more than her physical appearance. Her eyes had held a kindness, a patience, a compassion that no other eyes had displayed while looking into his own. Even Lily had never looked at him in such a way.

He had come to love her eyes and her heart before he loved the rest of her. He knew that now. But then, then he hadn't dared even acknowledge that he found her in the least bit attractive. He had gone on the defensive after that, unable to understand how she could have worked her way past the hard, carefully built boundaries that protected his heart and his affections. He had been furious with her for daring to breach his secure walls, his armor.

But now the fury and the hatred were gone, replaced by confusion and wonder. Hermione would never truly understand how completely awed and perplexed he was by her love for him. No matter how many times she told him _why_ she loved him, or _how_ she could, he would never come to fathom her love or its source. He would never understand her love for him just as she would never understand the confusion her love caused him. Every time he saw his reflection he scowled at himself, smirked, even made faces just to see the cruel, hard exterior of a mean man. It mystified him, how she could look at that face and love it.

And he had never seen himself as anything but ugly. He had the most complex sort of character in that he had a large ego and an even larger pride, but after years of being treated as if he was filthy, he had begun to believe it. While he was proud and thought of himself as better than others, he had also come to hate himself. He hated his appearance, his personality, everything. His hate for himself was one of the reasons he failed to understand how anyone could actually _love_ him. But he had learned to accept Hermione's love, to embrace it, rather than to puzzle over it and let it waste away. And somehow he was capable of returning her love in full, though he would never believe that he could give her anything that could compare in the least to what she had given him.

Hermione watched his eyes. He was careful, and after years of working as a double agent, a spy, pretending to be the Dark Lord's servant and eventually becoming his most trusted ally, she could see why he had perfected the art of keeping his emotions and his expression as two very different things. His face was at the moment calm, blank, impassive. But she knew that inside he was thinking, thinking hard over things. His eyes were usually cold when he was hiding something, though they were rarely black and cold when he was looking at her. However, now they were cold once more, and she knew that he was hiding something. She frowned at him, but he was lost in thought and failed to notice, so she stopped frowning and allowed her face to clear. Whatever he was keeping from her, it didn't seem important enough for her to badger him over, so she kept quiet and pretended not to know. She simply let it go and changed the subject, bringing up the coming classes.

Severus knew just how excited she was about the first day of school, and just the next year of it overall, so he let her talk. And talk she did. She went on and on about classes, planning, teaching techniques, and everything that had to do with school. She scowled at him—though she was still smiling with her eyes—and told him firmly that he needed to be kinder to his students, particularly the Gryffindors.

He only snorted.

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, crawling into bed. It was getting late and she wanted to rise early to go over her class schedule for the thousandth time, just to be sure she hadn't missed anything or made any mistakes in her planning. Severus turned out the lights with a flick of his wand and slid under the blankets beside her. He curled an arm around her and she nestled comfortably against him and they fell asleep. Severus drifted off before his wife, who was doing figures and counting the number of classes she would have each week, in her head.

The next few days went by quickly and it seemed that suddenly the first of September was upon them. The students arrived in the late afternoon and Hermione took great pleasure in being the teacher who conducted the sorting ceremony for the first years. She was sure to smile encouragingly at all of the new students, who were shifting on their feet and looking around, obviously terrified. She congratulated each of them and always winked at the Gryffindors, who would grin shyly back and make their way hesitantly to their new table.

That night Severus just stood back and kept out of the way as she rushed around their rooms, gathering plans and schedules and panicking because she was sure she had forgotten something. There were also the papers and forms for the students in her house; she had to keep track of her students and make sure she knew which ones had permission from their parents to go to Hogsmeade, among other things.

The first day of classes went rather smoothly, though, and in spite of Hermione's worry that she had forgotten something, there seemed to be nothing she hadn't thought to plan for. At the end of the day she sat back in her chair, putting away several rolls of parchment and using her wand to clean the classroom. She sighed, smiling; as the year before, she had allowed the students a first day free of Transfiguration homework. She knew none of the other teachers would be so kind and while she wasn't actually working to win her students' hearts in such a way, she knew that they would appreciate her letting them off easy.

She knew how excited Neville was about the school year starting, almost as excited as she was. So she found him in the Great Hall before dinner and they talked about classes and the coming year and anything else that came to mind. He had been just as nervous—if not more—as she had about the first class and forgetting something, but he said that he had enjoyed his first day teaching as the official Herbology teacher. Hermione mentioned that she had heard some of her students talking about Herbology as they entered her class, assuring him that she had heard nothing but good things. Professor Longbottom was going to be the students' favorite among all but the Slytherins, she was sure. He might even take her place in their hearts. But Hermione didn't mind. She had never seen Neville looking so euphoric before.

There was a surprise visit from Harry and Ginny only two weeks later, and they stayed up late, sitting in the teachers' lounge and talking of their adventures together. The couple stayed in Hogsmeade and Ginny left the next morning to go to London and discuss her future as a seeker with several different professional quidditch team captains. Harry stayed another day, and he waited for Hermione to finish her classes. They walked together along the outside of the lake, talking of old times and reminiscing about their adventures together hunting Horcruxes. They laughed over the many memories of stupid mistakes they had made and shook their heads at how some of their carefully made plans had turned into battles or duels or some situation that involved all hell breaking loose.

There came a point in the conversation when Harry mentioned that he was planning on taking any free time he had to travel with Ginny and see her playing quidditch. He seemed a bit embarrassed that he would, as a result, have little time to spend visiting Hermione. But Hermione wasn't bothered at all. She could see that Harry and Ginny were falling for each other, and that they were already very serious. She didn't doubt that they would be married someday. She knew how important it was to be with the one you loved, and she could tell that Harry and Ginny did love each other.

The conversation then turned to Teddy Lupin and his life with the Weasleys. Hermione remembered how the last time she'd held the baby she had pictured herself with her own child. She was brought back from the memory, though, when Harry asked if she had visited her parents recently.

"Oh, yes," she said, nodding and smiling. "Severus and I went to see them several times over the summer and I visited them one last time before school started, only two days ago. They're always happy to see us."

She laughed and Harry shot her an inquisitive look.

She smiled at the ground. "They really seem to like Severus. I find it funny, how their faces light up and they smile when they see him walking towards them. He always gets uncomfortable and looks anywhere but back at them and he slows down. I don't think he knows how to react, or just what to make of their affections for him."

Harry laughed. "Snape—I mean Severus—uncomfortable and confused . . . I'd like to see that," he said, still laughing.

Hermione nodded. "It's completely unlike anything we ever saw of him when we were younger."

By then they had walked around the lake and were strolling back towards the castle. They were passing the tree that they had sat under with Ron so often in their student years when Harry asked suddenly, "How do the students address you and Severus?"

Hermione turned and looked at him curiously. She frowned, but she simply didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

"You know," he said, chuckling. "It was 'Professor Snape' and 'Professor Granger' last year. What do they call you now? Or do they just say 'Professor Snape' for both of you?"

Hermione laughed. "Oh." She blushed then. "Well, most of the time the students just say 'Professor Snape' for both of us and they can easily tell which one they're talking about because of the, ah . . . tone of voice . . . they use, and how they talk, when they say the name."

Harry grinned. "Or I'll bet they call Severus 'Snape' just like we used to when we were students, eh?"

Hermione smiled. "I suppose they probably do."

"And you're addressed as 'Professor Snape,'" he said, still grinning. "Most likely because they respect you and love you more than him."

Hermione shook her head, smiling. "Probably. And if he'd just change the way he treats the students and how he teaches, he might not be referred to so spitefully."

Harry laughed and she joined him.

They walked into the entrance hall and Harry, as an adult guest, took his seat at the staff table. The younger students all pointed at him or waved and smiled. None of them could stop staring at his lightning scar. He smiled and waved back, always grinning at the students and ever-winking when he saw them looking his way. They absolutely loved him. Hermione smiled when she saw how he took the time after dinner to stop and chat with the students. They seemed awed and thrilled to be talking to 'The Chosen One' and rushed to tell their friends who had missed out on the excitement.

After the students had all left the hall Harry turned to Hermione. "I'll be getting back to the Burrow then," he said quietly.

She nodded and hugged him tight. "Tell the family I said hello," she said. After a short moment of biting her lip she added quietly, "And give Ron my best."

Harry nodded. "I'll do that."

She watched him leave the Great Hall and turned when Severus strode towards her. He stopped beside her and raised his eyebrows, smirking. She expected him to make some remark about how Harry had stolen her away during her free time for two days now, but he remained silent, watchful.

Hermione knew that things were sort of different with her friends now that she was married, and because she was married to Severus. But their friendships and strong bonds with each other would never fade away. There was a love shared between them that would last forever. She knew that things between her and Harry would never really change. And she and Ginny were very close now as well. It was saddening for her, thinking about how things with Ron had already changed too much, and how the two of them might never piece their friendship back together again.

She wondered if he regretted that they weren't close friends anymore as much as she did. More than anything, she was curious, did he often think back to the day they had fought and she had ended things? Did he look back on that day and their row with longing, wishing he could go back and change things? Or had he accepted that she was no longer his and that his chance to be with her was gone? Had he come to see her in a bad light and so begun to treat her accordingly? Hermione wasn't sure what was going through his head, especially after his behavior toward her while she had been at the Burrow over the summer.

Severus saw that she was thinking, recognizing the calm but calculative expression on her face. He saw several different emotions pass over her features, and then her mind had cleared and she was looking at him again. He offered her his arm and they left the Great Hall together. They passed Neville on their way, and he and Hermione exchanged smiles. He had spent some time with Harry and Ginny as well, though mostly Harry, during their visit. She wondered if he had grown as close to Ron while working as an auror as he had to Harry and decided she would ask him when she got the chance.

They passed Draco in the dungeon and he and Severus nodded to one another while Hermione simply sent an amiable smile his way. There was a very deep mutual respect between them; Severus felt indebted to Draco not only for saving his life, but more so for saving Hermione's. Hermione felt grateful to him because he had saved them, and because she had come to call him a friend. And Draco was grateful towards Hermione for choosing to use phoenix tears to heal him, just as he was grateful to Severus for trying to help him during his more troubled years as a student, when he was being forced to do the Dark Lord's bidding.

Hermione smiled when they entered their rooms and Crookshanks trotted up to her. She scooped him up in her arms and sat down in the study, stroking his head and staring into the fire. She pretended not to notice Severus' sour look directed towards the cat. He hadn't truly complained about bringing Crookshanks to the school, but didn't exactly harbor any affection for the animal either. To him pets were more of a nuisance than something to be cherished. Crookshanks seemed to reciprocate Severus' feelings, and the two usually kept their distance from one another.

Severus went to the bedroom to change out of his robes and Hermione whispered to the cat, eventually deciding to let him play. She muttered the proper incantation and a silver, wispy doe burst from her wand tip and stood near the couch, watching the cat intently. The two frolicked around the room, the doe soundless and silent, Crookshanks padding along with her.

Severus looked in on the study and watched the patronus and the cat as they moved around the room. Both were graceful and yet still almost childishly playful. He had never quite understood why Hermione cast a patronus for the sole purpose of a plaything for her cat, but he did know that she enjoyed watching the two of them. And while she had never admitted it, he had often seen the look of pure pleasure and joy on her face every time her patronus burst from her wand not as an otter, but as a doe.

"Hermione," he said after a moment.

She turned to look at him and stood up, walking to him. "Yes?"

He was momentarily captivated by the racing animals behind her, but then the cat leapt onto the couch and curled up, obviously done playing. The doe stopped, looking at her companion for a moment before she faded into nothingness.

He looked back to his wife's face but failed to remember what had been on his mind. He shook his head and didn't say anything, but she understood.

Later, in the dark, he whispered, "Goodnight," in her ear.

She frowned into the darkness and mumbled back an unwilling, "Goodnight," in return.

While it had been quite some time now since the word had brought about their imminent separation, she was still not entirely fond of saying it. Severus continuously used it, however, more to irritate her than anything. She was slowly coming around to saying it every night again as a result of his constant prodding.

That night she managed to fall asleep thinking about Harry and Ron and the many great memories they had made together, rather than calculating classes or making schedules in her head. The adventures she'd been on with Harry and Ron had been wonderful, utterly terrifying and extremely dangerous at times, yes, but wonderful all the same. And yet she couldn't be happier with the way her life seemed to be going. There was no place she would rather be than there, safely held in Severus' arms and at the very school where everything had begun all those years before.

**All right, we are coming towards the ending of the story! (We're not quite there just yet, though, so don't panic!) If you enjoyed or disliked this chapter then shoot me a review and tell me what you think! Thanks again to all of you for reading and a massive THANK YOU to all of you who have reviewed. It helps me improve my writing and story so much! Love you all! ~Taelr**


	33. The News

The next months of school seemed to come and go far too quickly to be possible, and yet still they had passed. Christmas had come and it was now a week after New Year's Day. Hermione had read many of the books at their home in Spinner's End and knew the titles and authors of all of those she had yet to read, and had succeeded in finding a book Severus did not have about potion making. She had given it to him for Christmas and been pleasantly surprised when he gave her a necklace with a golden lion dangling delicately on the chain. It matched the bracelet Luna had given her the year before quite well.

Now that Christmas and New Years were over, things were settling down again and classes were falling back into their regular patterns. Hermione had found it strange, waking up on Christmas morning beside a still-sleeping Severus and realizing that exactly a year before he had been down on one knee asking for her hand.

She had watched him sleeping for several moments, allowing a wave of memories to wash over her. Exactly two years before, she and Harry had been in Godric's Hollow in the graveyard looking over the place where his parents were buried. It seemed so very long ago that they had been there together, without Ron, but at the same time it felt as if it had only happened yesterday and two years couldn't possibly have gone by.

She sat at her desk, grading homework even while she was musing over the holidays. She remembered when she'd found the notes written by young female students about their suspicions of she and Severus' budding relationship and she smiled; they had been right.

Ginny Weasley was sneaking up the hall, not wanting her best friend to hear her footsteps as she approached. She pushed the door open wide enough to peek through and see Hermione, who was sitting behind her desk. Her head was bent over papers, probably grading homework, and there was a ghost of a smile hovering over her lips as she worked. She looked up when Ginny pushed the door open all of the way and stepped inside, approaching the desk.

There were smiles and hugs and Hermione started putting away the papers. Ginny shrugged. "If you're busy, I can leave you until later."

Hermione shook her head. "No, no, it's fine. I'll do it later."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "That looked like a lot of work. Are you sure?"

Hermione smiled. "I'm sure."

She was smiling one moment but then she was frowning, and she put a hand on the desk after a moment and leaned on it, raising her other hand to rub her temple. She grimaced and moved to sit on the front of her desk like she always did. She looked fine now, but Ginny had seen her pained expression.

"Something wrong?" the redhead asked, concerned.

Hermione shrugged. "I've been feeling mildly ill over the past week or two, but I'm fine now." She saw Ginny's worried expression and said, "Don't worry; I'm all right."

Ginny frowned now, narrowing her eyes at Hermione. She hadn't sat on the edge of the closest student's desk as she usually would have by then, and Hermione noticed. She gave Ginny a questioning look, but the younger woman shook her head before she sat down.

"You had some time away from quidditch then?" Hermione asked, changing the subject.

Ginny nodded. "Just a few days, and I decided to come visit you. Then I'll go back home for a few days."

Hermione smiled. "How is everyone there?"

Ginny grinned back. "Good. Mum and Dad are doing well, Bill and Fleur have been visiting pretty often, and Fleur's actually bearable to be around now." She winked and went on, "Charlie stopped in for Christmas and that was nice. Percy's been busier with work but he always makes time to spend with the rest of us, especially me and George. George and Angelina are planning and their wedding should be at the beginning of the summer." She paused for a moment and sighed. "And I'm fine."

Hermione's brow creased. She bit her lip, releasing it to ask quietly, "And Ron?"

Ginny sighed again. "He's . . ." she shook her head, frowning. "He's . . . I don't know anymore. He's distant, reclusive. He doesn't look like he gets much sleep anymore and when he does come to eat with us he doesn't eat much. It's the complete opposite than how he's ever been."

Hermione grimaced; she felt as if his depression—or whatever was wrong with him—was her fault. Ginny noticed the sad, worried look on Hermione's face and jumped to change the subject. "Teddy's doing well. He's getting big," she said in an attempt to turn the talk away from Ron.

Hermione brightened at the mention of the baby. "Is he very big?" she asked, smiling at the thought.

Ginny nodded. "Yes, walking now, toddling all over the place. It's a full time job keeping him out of trouble these days. Harry takes over for Mum whenever he's home and we try to take turns and give her breaks, you know, the like. He's quite the personality though."

Hermione leaned forward, wanting to hear more. Teddy was adorable and it sounded like he was only becoming more loveable as the days went by.

Ginny smiled widely as she thought about her adopted brother. "He still hasn't let his hair stay the same color for two days in a row. We wake up and each time it's a new shade of some color or other. I didn't know there were so many variations to the rainbow until I started taking care of that baby!"

Hermione smiled and looked past Ginny, picturing the little boy's face and remembering the sound of his laugh.

She didn't see as Ginny tensed suddenly and then leaned forward. "Hermione," she said, whispering now rather than talking loudly.

Hermione came back from her thoughts and looked at Ginny, who was suddenly quite pale, which was sure something because she had naturally pale skin. "Yes?" she asked, worried about her friend. "What is it?"

"How long did you say you've been feeling sick?" Ginny was still whispering, very white in the face, and still tense.

Hermione didn't understand. She frowned. "Er, about a week and a half, maybe two?" she raised her eyebrows, but then frowned again. "What? Why?"

Ginny swallowed. "Did you ever think maybe you were sick because . . ." she trailed off and bit her lip.

Hermione let out a nervous laugh. "Um, Ginny, what are you talking about? You don't look well and-"

She was cut off when Ginny abruptly said, "A baby." It was more of a squeak than a squeal, and Hermione stopped and looked at her strangely.

"I don't think I understand what you're-" but then it hit her. She stopped and looked at Ginny. They stared at each other for a few seconds and then Hermione nodded once. "Oh. You think . . .? I suppose it's possible . . ."

She licked her lips and then stood up. "There's a relatively simple spell to use to check . . ."

Only moments later the two of them were hugging and smiling, both of them caught between laughing and crying. Hermione ran her hands over her face, biting her lip after they had stopped hugging and giggling.

Ginny asked the obvious question. "When are you going to tell Severus? And how will you do it?"

Hermione shook her head, smiling. "How? I'll tell him as it is. I'm not sure how he'll feel but," she shrugged, "it is what it is. And when? Let's see, probably tonight. After dinner."

Ginny nodded and took a deep breath, letting her chest heave and her shoulders sag afterwards. She shook her head. "Can I tell harry when I get home tomorrow?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "You can tell the whole family," she said after a moment.

Ginny smiled, squeezing Hermione's arm. She glanced at the clock and said, "Speaking of dinner, it's about time we got to the Great Hall."

Hermione nodded as they linked arms. "Of course it is."

They walked to the Great Hall, and when they entered they squeezed each other's arms again, this time not letting go. They sat down at the staff table, and Ginny was at the end of the table, not beside Hermione, who found herself trembling slightly as she took her seat beside her husband. What _would_ he think? She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and looked back to her empty plate when she saw that he was looking back.

Severus frowned; Hermione was acting strange. If she thought he didn't notice how she was trembling and fidgeting then she was wrong. And she kept sneaking glances at him and looking away when she found she'd been caught. What was the matter with her?

He decided grudgingly that it could wait until they were back in their rooms but hardly paid any attention to what he was eating because he was worried about Hermione. She had walked in with Ginny. Perhaps there was some news from the Burrow that had upset her or made her excited? Her strange behavior didn't necessarily point to something being wrong; she might just be happy about something or other.

After the meal was over Ginny gave Hermione a hug and a smile. She whispered in her ear, "Good luck, and congratulations, by the way," and then Severus was there beside her, offering his arm. Hermione looked up into his face as they walked through the dungeon and then the teachers' lounge. Once they were in their rooms and had changed she sat on the edge of the bed in her pajamas. Severus went to the bathroom and Hermione let herself collapse onto the bed on her back. After a moment she leaned against the pillows and looked down at her midsection. She pressed her hand against her lower stomach. Could there really be a human, a living thing, a baby, growing there?

Severus opened the door to the bathroom, unintentionally quiet and stealthy as always, and looked up to find Hermione gazing intently at her stomach. Was she ill? Did she have cramps or way something the matter? He stood in the doorway to the bathroom and watched as she lifted a hand to touch her stomach. There was something in the way she let her fingers brush her own skin, almost a reverence in the way she looked at and touched her midsection.

Severus walked towards the bed and Hermione looked up at him. _This_ wasn't how she'd planned on him finding out, but she supposed it wasn't a bad way to start the conversation. She knew by the frown on his face that he'd seen her looking at and touching her stomach and was about to ask if she was quite well or something was wrong. He sat down in the chair beside the bed and raised his eyebrows at her, asking the question she knew he would, though he didn't actually voice it.

Hermione took a deep breath. Why not just get it out? She had said to Ginny that she would tell Severus as it was, but now, with him gazing at her so steadily, so intently, she found a spark of fear ignited in her heart. She licked her lips, biting them and looking at the floor as she moved her hand from her stomach. She opened her mouth and for a moment no words came. And then two simple ones left her lips and that was all it took. "I'm pregnant."

Severus continued to stare into her eyes for another moment and then he blinked several times as if he was just realizing what she had said. "You're sure?" he asked. The words could have been hurtful, if he'd used the proper tone of voice. But no, he had spoken softly, kindly, almost hopefully. He was being careful with her; she suddenly seemed so much more fragile than even before.

"Quite sure," she said.

He inclined his head. "Well, I would suggest names but I'm sure you've gone so far as to think of first names and middle names, perhaps even nicknames, already."

Hermione was even now unused to him making jokes, and she raised her eyebrows. She had played scenarios of how he would react to the news all through dinner, and this was certainly not a reaction she had thought would occur. She managed a small smile. "You're not upset then? You're happy?"

He actually smiled, widely, genuinely. "No, I am not upset. And yes, I am pleased."

She smiled wider now. There was so much more in his eyes that she knew he would never say with his lips, but she could read the words in his eyes and as long as she could see them there she would never worry over not hearing them from his lips.

They fell asleep, Severus' arms wrapped around her as always, after discussing names and whether they would send the child to school or teach him or her at home. They had even had a playful argument over the baby's gender; Hermione wanted it to be a boy and therefore insisted that was what they should call it, and Severus wanted a girl and argued accordingly.

He didn't tell Hermione that he was still unsure of how to feel about a baby. He was pleased, that much was true, but he was also worried. What if he was a terrible father? What if something happened and he could no longer support Hermione and the child? There were so many new things that could go wrong, now that he had received the news. And on top of all of that, he had never, before loving Hermione, wanted children, even if he worked with them every day at Hogwarts. So he was unsure. And what if he didn't fancy the baby after it had been born and the child once it had grown? What then? He was more confused than anything, befuddled, surprised. But he looked down on Hermione's face, pale and peaceful in the darkness, and was sure that he could do nothing but love and adore anything she gave him, and if it was a child who was anything like her, he would never feel anything but affection and tenderness for them.

**I don't have much to say about this chapter besides that I'm sorry it's short (however, it was necessary for this part of the story) and that I am sorry I haven't updated in so long. The last chapter had me dealing with a bit of writer's block and I kept writing pages and erasing the whole thing because I didn't like what I had. Thank you all for sticking with me and please review if you have a moment! I would love to hear any comments/advice/corrections you have to give! Thanks again and lots of love! ~Taelr**


	34. Lily

It was a hot, muggy morning in late July. A man paced in the hall upstairs, outside of the bedroom he shared with his wife. There was a groan from the other side of the door, not very loud or expressive, but still enough to make him stop pacing for a few seconds and listen. Then there was nothing but the low hum of quiet, soothing talk on the other side of the door, words he was unable to make out or properly understand. So he started pacing again, and the floorboards beneath his feet creaked under his steps.

Inside the room, three women were hard at work. One was boiling water over the fire and checking it constantly, wetting rags and conjuring towels. The oldest of the three was folding the dry towels neatly and stacking them beside the bed, talking quietly to keep the girl in the bed calm. And the girl in the bed was sweating, breathing hard, clenching and unclenching her fists as she worked at the beginning of delivering her first child. She gasped quietly and reached for the hand of the older woman, who was beside her, and gave it a squeeze. Rather than saying anything, the older one brushed her own graying red hair behind her ear and gazed into the younger woman's face reassuringly.

Severus, too, was clenching and unclenching his hands. He continued pacing, unable to keep still; he was furious with those women. As soon as the mother and daughter had arrived to help Hermione with the delivery, they had shooed him out the door and made him leave. He actually started in surprise and turned to look at the plump, motherly face that peeked around the partially-open door and glared at him. "Goodness, man! You're going to wear a hole in the floor! Be still, will you?!"

He glared at her. His tone was biting, sharp as a knife and unkind. "_Woman_," he spat, "If you would allow me to see my wife, I would stop."

She glared right back, perhaps even more fiercely. "Your pacing is making her restless. And if you _were_ allowed to come inside and see her, you would only panic and overreact and be in the way."

His face changed dramatically, very quickly. Rather than retorting some cruel, hasty comment or remark, he looked alarmed. "Why? Is there something to panic about?"

Molly Weasley pulled an amused face. "My, my, Severus, I daresay no one has ever seen the hard, cold potions master looking as concerned and near hysteria as you are now. It's a real honor to see you in this more vulnerable state." And with that, she shut the door in his face.

It wasn't that he couldn't simply use a spell to unlock it and open it and walk in as much as the fact that Hermione had asked him to listen to whatever Molly told him to do once the two Weasley women arrived. He had grudgingly agreed to do so and much as he regretted it now, he felt that he could not go back on his word to his wife. He _was_ however, at the moment, feeling quite useless and unable to help or do anything beneficial to the situation. And so he resumed his pacing, unable to keep still and wondering if it really did make Hermione restless or the redheaded woman had only said as much to keep him quiet and calm.

Back in the room, the hot water and towels were ready, and they were as prepared as they would ever be for the arrival of the baby. Ginny went and sat on the edge of the bed, holding Hermione's hand. Hermione had wanted to have the mother and daughter there for the delivery because Molly had brought plenty of children into the world, enough to know what she was doing, and because Ginny was her best friend and had wanted to be there. She had neither agreed nor disagreed when Molly sent Severus out of the room, and while she wanted him to be close and lend her his strength, she was unsure of whether she wanted him to see her like this.

Things were ready, Hermione could feel that something would happen soon, and the two women there to help were prepared. And so they waited. Things in the room grew deathly silent, so that the women could hear the creaking floor and quickly-placed steps as Severus continued to pace.

He caught on to the silence in the room and stopped pacing, straining to hear something, anything. And then they seemed to be moving within the room quite a bit, and there were too many separate noises to discern between them. He leaned against the wall and listened, closing his eyes as he focused with all his might on making _something_ out of the sounds behind the door. Fear gripped him, leaving him paralyzed. His mind was filled with questions, a chaotic mess of fears and unanswered questions and worries and regrets.

It seemed like an eternity, and still the women in the room did not cease to move about. Neither of the Weasleys came to the door to tell him what was happening and he thought he might go mad from the waiting. And then the noise continued from the other side of the door, but a new sound joined in, splitting the air and seeming to drown out the rest. Severus jerked his head in the direction of the door in surprise when a baby's cry rent the air. It wasn't that much of a shock; what was he supposed to have expected? And yet still, the chills, the thrill, the fear and the awe that came when he heard the noise were something he was hardly prepared for.

Only moments later things had settled down some, and he quite literally jumped into the doorway when the door was opened. Molly stepped out of the way and closed the door, following him to the bedside, where Ginny was standing. Severus saw first the face of his wife, whom he thought beautiful even now, despite her appearance; her cheeks were flushed pink, but the rest of her skin seemed extremely pale, and there were beads of sweat on her forehead. Severus brushed a stray, damp curl of hair out of Hermione's face and saw that in spite of her exhausted, sickly appearance, she was beaming up at him.

He took a deep breath and let his gaze fall to the bundle that was wrapped safely in Hermione's arms. She lifted it towards him gently, pulling the baby away from its nursing. Severus took the bundle carefully and looked down at the small body wrapped in the blanket. He watched the bright red little face contort in a comical display of fury and upset, and only a moment later the baby was crying loudly again. The baby was small enough to fit in one of Severus' large hands, and he marveled at how detailed, how perfect, how delicate everything about the tiny thing was.

And then there was the knowledge that he had helped to bring this little person into existence, this screaming, squirming, _living_ thing. It was a crippling, staggering thought, a wonderful and awe-inspiring idea. Severus stared at the baby for another moment, taking in every detail that was available to his eyes. Even more frightening and terribly wonderful was the sudden realization that he had actually made something good, something beautiful, for once. He set the baby in Hermione's arms again and smirked at the silence that fell as soon as the child had again found its mother's breast.

The silence was broken when Ginny asked quietly, "What'll you name her?"

It occurred to Severus for the first time that he hadn't known the baby's gender. So it was a girl. He had a daughter. The words were strange in his mind, the idea of him being a father even stranger. He returned from his thoughts when his wife smiled up at him a broke the silence. "Her name," she began simply, pausing to look down on the baby and brush a fingertip against the child's soft wisps of brown hair. Severus realized that their daughter had inherited her mother's hair.

They had agreed on names for both a boy and a girl to be prepared, and Hermione had chosen the girl's name. Severus had been surprised by her choice, but looking down on the child, he thought that the name fit her well. He was brought back from his thoughts when Hermione spoke again at last.

"Her name is Lily," she said, smiling at Severus again. "Lily Eileen."

"Lily Eileen Snape," Ginny said softly, gazing down at the now-sleeping baby and then at its mother. "It's a lovely name."

The Weasleys left the room to allow the new family some time to themselves. They stayed the night to be there for Hermione and then Molly left. Ginny stayed a total of three days after the birth of Lily Eileen at Hermione's request. When she, too, had left, there was only Severus and his wife and child.

Lily was her father's pride and joy, and she became his reason to live. He loved Hermione just as passionately as ever and was still just as protective, but she was nowhere near as delicate and breakable as Lily was. The baby girl never failed to bring a smile to her father's face, and he loathed being away from her for any length of time. It was as if the warmth, the flame that had leapt up with the new life of their child, had somehow thawed whatever far reaches of Severus' heart that Hermione had failed to before.

It was difficult, living with a small baby; Hermione got little sleep throughout the night and because of her worrying and desire to be near the child, and Severus enjoyed no better. But even with the few hours of sleep, the constant worrying and being careful and pleasing the upset baby, both parents agreed that they had never been happier.

They took Lily to meet her grandparents when she was three weeks old, and nothing had ever brought such joyous, happy smiles to the two people's faces before. They were in love with their granddaughter from the start, taking turns holding her carefully and letting her take hold of their fingers or hair.

Lily was small, but not unhealthily so. Severus knew that she would grow to be a short, petite woman like her mother, and he didn't doubt that she would inherit her mother's beautiful features as well.

When Lily was around seven months old her eyes began to change from baby-blue to something else, and Hermione was beyond thrilled when they discovered that she had inherited her father's eyes. Severus was mightily pleased, though he refused to say so. He had hoped that Lily would have Hermione's eyes, but didn't really mind all that much that she had his instead.

Teddy Lupin was three years old, almost four, but he and Lily liked each other from the start and as they got older, they played together often. Hermione didn't work at Hogwarts the year that Lily was born because taking care of a new baby and teaching would not work well together. However, Severus needed to provide for his family and taught at the school as the potions master for another long year.

Hermione and Lily came and visited when they could, but it was the longest year of school either of them could ever remember going through. Hermione had waited at home patiently, and had enjoyed her time with her daughter, but she missed her husband terribly. And he missed both of his girls just the same as they missed him.

When at last the seemingly never-ending school year was over, Severus was able to return home and stay there. Even with the all the visits during the year, Lily had grown since he'd last seen her. Now that he was home for the summer, life seemed to resume a normal pace at the Snape residence and things settled down. Severus made potions and sold them to Saint Mungo's and the Ministry of Magic and to several small apothecaries during his time away from the school.

One night Hermione stepped into the nursery and found Severus sitting in the corner in the rocking chair, slowly rocking back and forth as he read muggle stories to their daughter. He turned his gaze from the book in his lap to the child in his arms and his expression softened even further. He failed to notice his wife's presence, so she stepped back out of the room, peering at them one last time before she tiptoed back down the hall, smiling. Seeing Severus reading muggle stories had reminded her of a time before she loved him, a time when he had laid in bed, too weak to rise or even feed himself, and she had read muggle fairytales to him.

She had once thought that there was no man she disliked more than she did Severus Snape. Except perhaps for Voldemort himself, but she had never truly considered a man as much as a monster. She had believed with everything in her that Severus had been a hero, but that he was perhaps the cruelest man she'd ever met. And now that very same man was sitting in the corner of a nursery, rocking his baby girl and reading her a _muggle_ book. And when he had turned his eyes to his daughter, they had melted for her more than they ever had before, even for Hermione. But it was more than just his eyes that did the melting. His entire face had radiated pure adoration and love for the child in his arms, revealing just how melted his heart was as well.

Hermione entered her and Severus' bedroom and slid under the quilts on their bed, smiling into the darkness as she thought, once again, over everything she'd been through with Severus since she had returned to the shrieking shack after the battle at Hogwarts. There wasn't a single day when she didn't think back over it and marvel at how completely impossible and miraculous the story of she and her husband's romance was. And though she didn't know it, there was never a day that passed without Severus remembering the same things and pondering how strange and unlikely their history was together.

Severus was still unable to comprehend why Hermione loved him as she did, but he had at long last truly accepted that she loved him with everything in her and there wasn't a bit of her heart that wasn't his. No matter how deeply he had fallen in love with her, and she with him, even after their wedding he had experienced doubts and fears about her true feelings for him, not because he doubted her or her love, but because his entire life, he'd never known a love as steady and constant as hers. And then she had carried his child for nine months and eventually brought it into the world. Lily's birth had erased any fears or doubts he that lingered in his mind; if his wife loved him enough to bear his child and provide him with a family, giving him even more of herself, then how could there be any doubt at all in her love?

He laid his daughter in her crib and slid the book back into one of the many shelves of muggle stories and children's books before turning to the door. When he reached it he turned, gazing for a moment at his sleeping child, and then dimmed the lights with his wand and closed the door softly. He walked down the hall, to where his wife was curled up in their bed. He entered the room quietly even though he sensed that she was awake and waiting for him. He joined her in the bed then, pulling her close and kissing her forehead as she laid her head on his chest.

"I love you," he said so quietly that it was scarcely more than a whisper.

Smiling into his chest, Hermione closed her eyes. "I love you."

There were never goodnights said in the Snape home. Though Hermione had never actually voiced her dislike for the word since their wedding, he hadn't said goodnight to her in a good long while. He didn't mind so much, having never needed to bid anyone goodnight before Hermione. Because she was the only one, he never felt any loss at giving up the practice. Instead, they would say farewell in the late evenings with a murmured expression of their love.

And so the days and nights passed. That September Hermione was back among the staff at Hogwarts, and Ginny, who was taking a bit of time off from her new Quidditch career, was allowed to stay at the school as Lily's nanny. Lily did of course sleep in Severus and Hermione's rooms in the teacher's quarters in the dungeon, but Ginny was just next-door and she was with the baby at almost every waking hour of the little girl's life.

Things were a bit different at the school now. The students had all finally accepted Hermione and Severus' love and their marriage the year before when Hermione wasn't teaching. All of them, even the Slytherins, were glad that Hermione was teaching again, and all of them adored Lily. The students had also noticed that since their potions professor had married, he wasn't quite so unkind. But he was always a bit grumpy because his wife and daughter had to stay at home and away from him. Now, though, with Hermione and Lily there at the school all the year long, he was always in a rather good mood and was in fact lenient and not so cruel and unkind as the old Snape had been.

Lily stole the hearts of everyone at the school, whether they were staff or student. Hermione had proudly gone to Minerva's office to show off her daughter to Dumbledore and he had gazed at the child with a twinkle in his eyes. She had then smiled and said, "Thank you, Sir, for what you suggested a long time ago."

The twinkling in his eyes seemed to intensify and he had smiled in return, nodding to her and winking at Lily. Hermione sometimes wondered if Dumbledore had planned all along for her and Severus to develop feelings for one another, but she never asked the portrait of the headmaster about it.

Ginny had planned on going back to Quidditch after the first school year of caring for Lily, but when that summer came she could hardly bring herself to let the Snapes leave with their little girl. Eventually Ginny decided she would stay as Lily's nanny as long as she was needed. She was being paid for it because she had taken over the job of Quidditch Referee at the school, and she had plenty of time to return to professional Quidditch later in her life. She returned to Hogwarts year after year for her job on the Quidditch Pitch and because she had come to love Lily so dearly she couldn't bear to be away from the child for long.

Harry and Ron had continued their jobs as aurors, and Ron had eventually let go of his feelings for Hermione and his hate for Severus. He was very rarely around when the Snapes came to visit the Burrow, and was reclusive and kept to himself whenever he was around Hermione or Severus, but things _were_ better with him now.

Harry had proposed to Ginny and they were planning a summer wedding. Percy had met a girl at the Ministry who was his age, and they had been a couple for a while. Teddy Lupin was still growing and still changing his appearance often, much to the amusement of everyone around him. He was about three and a half years older than Lily, but Hermione didn't doubt that they would get along well and be good friends in the future. Bill and Fleur were expecting their first child and Charlie was still a bit of a loner, but he didn't seem to mind in the least.

Neville was back as Herbology teacher again, and though he hadn't told anyone else, he had shared with Hermione that he was planning on proposing to Luna soon. He was just as captivated by Lily as everyone else and visited her and Ginny during whatever free time he had. Draco was back at Hogwarts as well, and the students—even the Gryffindors—all agreed that he was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher they'd ever had. Lily had worked her magic on him, and he had even come to visit the Snape home during the summer.

When Lily was three years old, she was toddling around the school, being followed closely by Ginny as she went on her own adventures. She did of course spend her summers at home with her parents, but she'd practically grown up in Hogwarts. She was perfectly at home walking around the castle and even though Ginny was always right there with her, she was never in danger; any student who saw her was instantly another protector for her, whether they were helping her get safely through a crowd in the Great Hall or carrying her up or down the stairs.

At the end of the school year, everyone had to come and say farewell to Lily. She waved back at all of them, smiling as she did. Even the staff came to say goodbye, and Neville came and gave her a hug before he left. Hermione and Severus were just turning towards the door when Lily, who was in her father's arms, began reaching behind him and bouncing in his arms, wanting him to set her down.

Severus and Hermione turned and were surprised to find Draco there. Severus did indeed set Lily down and then he shook Draco's hand. Hermione did the same, and they shared a smile. Draco squatted down so he could be at Lily's level and said his goodbye. Then he stood up. He looked towards Severus and opened his mouth to say something but then looked down in surprise; Lily had run forward and was clinging to his leg, looking up at him. He had been captivated by her from the start, but had never held her or picked her up. Now she lifted her arms and looked at him pleadingly.

He glanced nervously in Hermione's direction as if he was afraid that he wasn't allowed to touch Lily, but Hermione only smiled at her daughter. She trusted Draco. He bent down and scooped Lily up in his arms, and she wrapped her tiny limbs around his neck, clinging to him. He was obviously a bit surprised by this, but then he patted her back and a smile broke across his face. When at last Hermione could convince Lily to let go of him, he was blushing. He said goodbye to Severus and Hermione again and then they turned to leave. Lily was in her father's arms again, peering at Draco and waving to him over Severus' shoulder, an adorable smile spread across her face. He smiled in return and waved back until they went out the door.

**Hmm, what to say, what to say. Well first off, I want everyone to know how sorry I am that I haven't updated in so long. It's literally been months, I know. I changed my profile presentation, and if you haven't seen that lately, I say there that life just caught up to me and I haven't had the time to write. That's true, but I was also having trouble with writer's block and kind of gave up after a while. But if you're still hanging with me, then here's the last chapter. I guess I will to an Epilogue to follow this, but this is pretty much the end. **

**I only hope you'll have a moment to review and give me some clue as to whether this was an alright chapter or not! **

**I want to give a massive thank you to everyone who has every read even just one of the chapters of this story, and I hope you know just how grateful I am for all the lovely reviews I got. Thank you all so very much! ~Taelr**


	35. Epilogue

Platform 9 ¾ was bustling with excited children and young people and their smiling parents, all checking to be sure they had everything they needed for school. One small boy had lost his frog, and he was crawling along the ground, around people's feet, over their toes, between their legs as they walked, all in his search for his beloved pet. A little girl was clinging to her older sister's jumper and crying, asking when she would be old enough to "Go wif sissy to hogwurz?" And nearby, a group of teenagers were huddled together, talking over how they could best cause trouble at school that year. Everyone was busy talking to someone or getting his or her things into order before they boarded the train.

Parents and children alike turned to stare when a family of five entered the crowded platform. A tall man with shoulder-length black hair was leading the group, his cloak billowing behind him and his cold, flint-colored eyes sweeping the crowd in front of him just once. Everyone who looked at him felt a bit of a chill run down their spine at the sight of him, and the younger children subconsciously moved closer to their parents or siblings when his gaze moved over them. Kids who were returning to Hogwarts that year knew how strict a teacher this man was, but even as they disliked him, they respected him.

While the crowd was chilled and even the adults there felt a bit of a nervous thrill run through them at the sight of Severus Snape, his family seemed completely oblivious to his cold, dark appearance. All the crowd had seen at first was the potions master, but when they looked beyond his frighteningly cold face, they saw something much warmer and brighter.

Walking close beside him was a beautiful young woman who looked to be in her early twenties. Cradled in her arms was a little girl, her youngest daughter. Seated on Snape's shoulders, and clinging to his father's hair with a wide grin on his face, was the little girl's twin brother. And between the potion master and his wife, a girl of five walked, clinging to her father's hand. She was barely tall enough to stand where Snape's hand fell at his side, and she was holding one of his large fingers in her hand. She seemed to think nothing of her father's dark appearance and looked up at him with a loving gaze before taking another of his fingers in her other hand and pressing his hand to her cheek affectionately.

Not far behind the family another young woman, this one with fiery red hair, walked. She was the children's nanny, and she seemed just as unaffected by Snape's dark presence as his family was. The people watched, some of them whispering about the Snape family and how the two adults had fallen in love. Then the family and their nanny entered the train and disappeared from sight, and the crowded platform buzzed back to life again.

Inside the train, Draco Malfoy watched all of this as it happened. He turned and nodded to Severus as the older wizard and his family passed, and then Draco followed them. Severus opened the door to a compartment and let his wife and children and their nanny step inside before he joined them, and Draco followed, closing the door behind him. Draco had spent the train-ride to Hogwarts with the Snapes and Ginny every year since Lily's birth. He sat down and watched as Ginny—as he'd come to think of her after years of her being nanny to Severus and Hermione's children—took her seat beside him, across from Hermione. Severus sat beside his wife and reached up to take his son from his shoulders, setting the little boy on his lap. The boy's twin sister was seated in her mother's lap, while Lily had gone to sit beside Ginny.

The train would leave soon, and people began hugging their families goodbye before boarding and finding their seats. Draco was only momentarily distracted by this, but was aware of the moment that everyone had boarded and the train began to move. He shifted his attention back to the family in the compartment with him and looked on with interest as the people around him went about making themselves comfortable for the ride to the school.

He had last seen Lily and her siblings only that year, back when the school year had ended and the Snapes had left Hogwarts, but even just over the summer the children had all grown. Lily was six now, and her younger brother and sister were almost three. Lily had always looked more like Hermione that she did like Severus, but she definitely had her father's eyes. Her hair was already falling about her shoulders in bushy curls, and Draco was sure she would grow up to look almost exactly like her mother. She and Ginny were, at the moment, reading _the Tales of Beedle the Bard_ and giggling over some story or another, though Draco wasn't sure because he hadn't been listening as they read.

He turned to look at Severus. Though the potion master was now in his mid-thirties, he was still looking well. His face remained wrinkle-free and he had yet to show signs of even a single gray hair to taint his ink-black head. His eyes were still bright and challenging as ever, cold and dark when he was angry or not in a pleasant mood, and a deep, melted brown when he was happy—which was only when he was with his wife or children. Draco knew that Hermione was good for Severus for many reasons, but he personally believed that she had taken away much of Severus' stress and soothed his self-loathing and horrid memories, resulting in his healthier living. The potion master seemed younger than he had been in years, and Draco thought it was because Severus no longer had so many terrible things on his mind. He looked better than Draco had ever seen him looking before.

Then Draco looked to Hermione. Her eyes were on her husband, and there was a brief look of adoration and affection on her face before she turned her attention back to the child on her lap. She was looking young and beautiful as ever. Yes, beautiful, as Draco had eventually been forced to admit to himself. And she looked truly _happy_, sitting there with her family.

Now Draco let his eyes rest on the little girl in Hermione's lap. Yes, Sofia. She had stolen the heart of each and every person she met just as quickly as Lily had. But when it came to appearance, Lily and Sofia were polar opposites. Though both had pale skin, Lily's hair was bushy and curly and light brown, while Sofia's was soft and straight and black as coal. Lily looked exactly like her mother, except for her eyes, and Sofia looked more like her father, though she had her mother's rounder, softer features, including Hermione's eyes. Sofia was currently quite busy playing with several of her mother's curls, and Draco smiled as he watched the little girl toying with Hermione's hair in wonder.

Finally, his eyes drifted to the little boy on Severus' lap. Everyone who knew very much about Severus and his past had been a bit more than shocked—to say the least—when Hermione had given birth to twins and they had announced the name of the boy. Everyone knew that Severus had hated his father, and the feeling was quite mutual, so all had been surprised and confused when Severus named his son Tobias. Draco was one of the few people who were close to both Severus and Hermione, and had gotten the full story on how they had decided to name their son. Apparently Severus eventually had, after Hermione showed him what true love was, forgiven his father for all of the terrible things he had done.

Then—as Hermione put it when she was speaking alone with Draco on the matter—Severus had taken one look at his son and called him Tobias, though he and Hermione had been planning on naming their baby something else if it was a boy. Hermione had privately told Draco that she was quite sure Severus had named his son Tobias because he saw a chance to raise another Tobias Snape, but do it the right way this time so that this Tobias was a good man and not a drunk.

And looking at the little boy now, Draco smiled; he couldn't imagine the child with any other name. Tobias just fit him perfectly. He was fair-skinned and pale, just like his sister, and looked much like their father, just as she did. He too had his mother's eyes, and he too looked more like his father than his mother, though he had inherited some of her finer, better features. He was a bit more like Severus than Sofia was, Draco thought, and obviously had a more boyish, distinctly masculine face, but Sofia and Tobias were like replicas of each other, only with a mirror effect because of their different genders.

As Draco watched, Tobias looked up to find his father looking away and reached up to tug gently on a fistful of Severus' hair. Severus returned his attention to his son immediately, and the boy seemed deeply satisfied simply because his father was looking at him.

Back in his years as a student at Hogwarts School, Draco had never imagined that he would someday be just as close to Hermione as Harry and Ron and Ginny were. But at the present, he was among Hermione's closest friends. It was something strange for him to ponder and think about, and it never really made any sense to him because he and Hermione had always been so different, and were still quite different to this day. But when they were together, talking or teaching or anything really, he found it was easy to be around her and he didn't have to pretend to be anyone else. She knew that he still had plenty of unhealed mental and emotional scars from the war, and she never expected him to act as if he knew how to cope.

She accepted him as he was, and was never hurt or offended when he lost his temper or made an unkind remark. And surprisingly enough, he found that she was also easy to talk to. She knew better than anyone how devastating the war had really been, and he could talk to her about the war or something that had happened without the need to spare her the more terrible details. She understood almost everything he felt most of the time, and when she didn't, she was respectful of his views and feelings. And she seemed infinitely patient, even when they were talking and she mentioned something that he was especially sensitive about, causing him to snap and say something cruel.

And since he had started teaching at Hogwarts and gotten to know Hermione and Severus better, Draco had been forced into close proximity with the Weasley family and Harry at times, but they weren't half as bad as he'd grown up thinking they were. Harry and Ginny didn't understand him the way Hermione did, but they were respectful and kind and the three of them never brought up his past, which he was grateful for.

Draco wasn't the only surprised one when Severus and Hermione had told him that they wanted him to be the godfather of the twins. At first he hadn't known what to think or how to react, but now he couldn't be happier; he loved Tobias and Sofia with all his heart. Granted, he loved Lily just as much, but as the twins' godfather he sort of had a claim on them. This connection to the Snape family had been something he didn't at first know how to handle, but was now completely comfortable with.

Everyone who met the Snape children was enchanted by them, especially the girls. And growing up at Hogwarts, with parents who were the Gryffindor Head of House and Slytherin Head of House, the children met every student at least once.

Severus and Hermione didn't have favorites among their children; they loved them all equally. But even then, Severus was just as enchanted—if not more so—than most people by his daughters. And Tobias was the youngest and the only boy, and he was the little boy Hermione had pictured having since she and Severus had first been married, so she doted on him. Likewise, Draco didn't have favorites, but loved them all.

A smile touched his lips when he thought back to when his mother had found out that he was the godfather of the Snape's youngest two children. She hadn't really known what to think or say. It had surprised them all when she came to visit her son during the school year once, and had even asked to meet Severus and Hermione and their family. She had been just as enchanted as everyone else by the Snape children and though she and Hermione had never been friends, she had grown to love Lily, Sofia and Tobias, just as her son did.

Draco was pulled back to the present and watched as Sofia wriggled free of her mother's arms and slid to the ground, toddling across the space in the compartment and making her way to him. She reached towards him and he lifted her into his lap, smiling down at her as she toyed with the sleeve of his robes. It didn't take long for Tobias to see his sister and he, too, deserted his parent for his godfather. Draco lifted him to sit on his other knee and was surprised when Lily scooted over so that she was sitting closer to him. She wrapped her small limbs around his arm and looked up into his face. "Will _you_ read to us?" she asked quietly.

He smiled and looked to Ginny, who smiled back and nodded, handing him the book she'd been reading to Lily before. Draco turned to the next story and started to read. Sofia and Tobias wriggled around so they were facing the book, which had moving pictures in it, and Lily laid her head against his arm as he read.

Sitting there, Draco felt like he was really part of a family. His mother and father had done what they could under the circumstances, but this was something else. For the first time in his life, Draco knew he had found a place where he belonged. When he looked over the sleeping twins in his lap and the sighing little girl on his arm, he saw children he might have the chance to teach someday, and looking around at first Ginny, and then Severus and Hermione, he saw people who had found the place they belonged as well.

**Wow, endings are hard. I hope this satisfies you all! For the longest time I couldn't decide where I wanted to have this part of the story take place and when exactly, and this morning while I was driving home it just sort of came to me! I wanted to have this part completely from a different perspective than either Severus or Hermione, and after some thinking, I chose Draco. He changed quite a bit throughout the story, and I thought it might be kind of cool to give him some closure as well as the Snapes. I hope you liked that!**

**Now for goodbyes, I guess. First of all I want to say that I can never, ever, ever thank you enough for reading my story. Every new reader, every follow, every favorite, every review; every single one means to much to me. When I wrote the first chapter of this story, I know only one thing: that I wanted to write a Snape/Hermione romance. That was it. I had no idea where I was going to take the story or even what was going to happen. And then I sat down and started typing and everything just sort of turned out. I knew I wanted them to face adversity, but I originally had absolutely no clue how they were going to fall for each other or what that adversity might be. And then it just happened and things popped into my head and after a little smoothing-out, they turned into an actual story. **

**This is the first real fanfiction I've ever written and the first one I've ever completed, and I have mixed feelings about completing it. On one hand, I'm relieved that it's finished and I know I don't have to worry about updating or writing new chapters. And on the other hand, I'm kind of sad because this is the end of this story. This turned out to be so much more than I ever imagined, and that's all because of you guys, the readers. So thank you, thank you, thank you. **

**I don't really have anything more to say, besides another huge THANK YOU SO VERY, VERY MUCH. Alright, I'm done now. I hope you enjoyed reading the story and coming along this crazy adventure with me as much as I enjoyed writing it! I love you all, forever. ~Taelr**


End file.
